
aass_3X\1^5_k_ 



Book 



PRESENTEl 



uNTED BT^ ^ 

11 "^ ' 1. 



SERMONS 



OF 




RE;V. FRANCIS A. BAKER, 



One of the First Paulists. 






New York: 

THE CATHOLIC BOOK EXCHANGE, 

I20 West 6oth Street, 



, 1896, 



52 'Ct 



^ 



^':^-. 






c>fp 






r- -•- •( 



• - • _•--•. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

SERMON I. 
The Necessity of Salvation. (Mission Sermon.) . . 209 

SERMON II, 
Mortal Sin. (Mission Sermon.) 226 

SERMON III. 
The Particular Judgment. (Mission Sermon.) . , . 239 

SERMON IV. 
Heaven. (Mission Sermon.) . , 252 

SERMON V. 
The Duty of Growing in Christian Knowledge. 

(First Sunday in Advent.) 263 

SERMON VI. 
The Mission of St. John the Baptist. (Second Sun- 
day in Advent.) 271 

SERMON VII. 
God's Desire to be Loved. (Christmas Day.) . . . 283 

SERMON VIII. 
The Failure and Success of the Gospel. (Sexagesima.) 292 

SERMON IX. 
The Work of Life. (Septuagesima.) . . . . , 303 

SERMON X. 
The Church's Admonition to the Individual Soul. 

(Ash Wednesday.) , . . 312 

SERMON XI. 
The Negligent Christian. (Third Sunday in Lent.) , . 320 

SERMON XII. 
The Cross the Measure of Sin. (Passion Sunday.) , 329 

SERMON XIII. 
Divine Calls and Warnings. (Lent.) .... 340 

SERMON XIV. 
The Tomb of Christ the School of Comfort. (Easter 

Sunday.) 352 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

SERMON XV. 
St. Mary Magdalene at the Sepulchre. (Easter Sunday.) 360 

SERMON XVI. 
The Preacher the Organ of the Holy Ghost. (Fourth 

Sunday after Easter.) 370 

SERMON XVII. 

The Two Wills in Man. (Fourth Sunday after Easter.) . 380 

SERMON XVIII. 
The Intercession of the Blessed Virgin the Highest 
Power of Prayer. (Sunday withm the Octave of the 
Ascension.) ....... ... 391 

SERMON XIX. 
Mysteries in Religion. (Trinity Sunday.) ^ . . . . 399 

SERMON XX. 
The Worth of the Soul. (Third Sunday after Pentecost.) 408 

SERMON XXI. 
The Catholic's Certitude concerning the Way of 

Salvation. (Fifth Sunday after Pentecost.) . . . 418 

SERMON XXII. 

The Presence of God. (Fifth Sunday after Pentecost.) . 429 

SERMON XXIII. 
Keeping the Law not Impossible. (Ninth Sunday after 

Pentecost.) . . . . . . .... 437 

SERMON XXIV. 
The Spirit of Sacrifice. (Feast of St. Laurence, Martyr.) 447 

SERMON XXV. 
Mary's Destiny a Type of Ours. (Assumption.) . . 456 

SERMON XXVI. 
Care for the Dead. (Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost.) . 465 

SERMON XXVII. 
Success the Reward of Merit. (Fifteenth Sunday after 

Pentecost.) 475 

SERMON XXVIII. 
The Mass the Highest Worship. (Twenty-first Sunday 

after Pentecost.) 484 

SERMON XXIX. 
The Lessons of Autumn. (Last Sunday after Pentecost.) . 493 



SERMONS. 



SEEMON I. 

THE NECESSITY OF SALTATION. 

(mission sermon.) 

" Thou art careful, and art troubled about many things. But one tiling ifl 
necessary." — St. Luke x. 41, 42. 

If, my brethren, I should ask each one in this assembly 
what his business is, I should probably receive a great varietj> 
of answers. In so large a congregation as this, drawn as it 
is from the heart of a rich and important city, there are un- 
doubtedly representatives of all the various avocations that 
grow out of the requirements of social life ; some merchants, 
some mechanics, some laboring men. I should find some 
heirs of ease and opulence side by side with homeless beg- 
gars. Some of you are heads of families, wdiile others are 
living under guardianship and subjection ; and in answer to 
my proposed question, you would give me your various em- 
ployments and states of life. Tou would tell me that your 
business is to heal the sick, or to assist at the administration 
of justice, or to teach, or to learn letters, or to labor. The 
men would tell me that their occupation is at the ofiice, or 
the warehouse, or the shop, and the women would tell me 
that theirs is at home by the family fireside. No ! my breth- 
ren, it is not so. This is not your business. Your words may 
be true in the sense in which you use them, but there is a 
great and real sense in which they are not true. * Trade^ 



210 THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 

labor, study — these are not your employments. Your avoca* 
tions are not so varied as you think they are. Each one of 
you has the same business. All men who have lived in the 
world have had but one and the same business. And what 
is that? The salvation of their souls. However varied your 
dispositions, your condition in this world, your duties, the 
end of life is absolutely one and the same to you all. Yes ! 
wherever man is, whatever his position, whatever his age, he 
has one business on the earth, and only one — to save his soul. 
All other things may be dispensed with, but this cannot be 
dispensed with. This is his true, his necessary, his only duty. 
Do not think that I am exaggerating tilings in making this 
assertion. Our Divine Saviour Himself in the words of the 
text has taught us the same lesson — "Martha^ Martha^ thou 
art careful^ and art troubled about many things. But one 
thing is necessaryP And what that one thing is. He has 
taught us, in those memorable words which He uttered on 
another occasion — " What shall it profit a man^ if he gain 
the whole woiid^ and lose his own soul ; or what shall a man 
give in exchange for his soulV^^ But what then, you say; 
must every one go into a cloister, must every one who wishes 
to do his duty forsake the world, leave house and parents, 
lands and possessions, and nourish his soul by continual medi- 
tation and prayer \ No ! this is not our Lord's meaning. 
The end of life is indeed the salvation of our souls, but w^e 
must work this out by means of the daily employments ap- 
propriate to our several conditions. We must prepare for 
the life to come by the labors of the life that now is. We 
must bear our part in this world, but we must do so, always, 
in subordination to eternity, and thus we shall in some way 
fulfil the words of the apostle— "77^^^?/ that use this worlds 
let them be as though they used it not /" f that is, let them not 
use it in the same way that the children of the world use it, 

♦St. Mark viii 36, St. f 1 Cor. vii. 31. 



THE I^ECESSiTY OF SALVATIOK". 211 

jr according to the principles of tlie world. This is enough 
for the salvation of most men. No one can be excused from 
doing so much as this. The law of God imperatively and 
under the highest sanctions requires this of every one here 
present. This is your duty to your souls. This is your only 
duty. This done, all will be done. This neglected, all else 
will be in vain. To prove this will be the theme of my pres- 
ent discourse. 

I will make a remark in the outset : It is important for us 
to bear in mind that the salvation of our souls is properly our 
work. The grace of God is indeed necessary in order to 
will, and to accomplish His good will, but without our co- 
operation, the grace of God will not save us ; accordingly, 
St. Paul, writing to the Philippians, exhorts them to worh 
out their salvation.^ It is only little children, who die soon 
after baptism, and persons equivalent to children, who are 
saved by a sovereign and absolute act of divine power; with 
regard to all others, God has made their eternal destiny de- 
pendent on their own actions. No one of us will be saved 
merely because Christ died for us ; or because He founded the 
Catholic Church as the church of salvation, and made us its 
members; or because He has instituted life-giving sacra- 
ments; or because God is willing that all should be saved; 
or because He gives His grace to us all ; or because the 
Blessed Yirgin Mary has such power with God ; or because 
the priest can forgive sins. No one will be saved because he 
has had inspirations of grace, good instruction, good desires, 
and good purposes. Despite all this, one may be damned. 
For the Holy Spirit has said distinctly and strongly, 
" Work out your own salvation." It rests, then, with you to 
save your souls. The grace of God is indeed neces&.ary. 
You cannot be saved without the death of Christ, or the 
Bac^ments of the Catholic Church, or the gifts of the Holj^ 

* Philip, ii. 12. 



212 THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 

Spirit, or the absolution of the priest, or the patronage oi 
Mary ; but all these things are within your leach, they arc 
all in your power. Now, at the time of the Holy Mission^ 
they are offered to you with especial liberality. God, on 
His part, has done, one may almost say, all that He could do 
to make your work easy to you. To make this an accept- 
able time, it only remains, then, that you do your part. And 
this you can do. However great your difficulties, however 
great your temptations, however strong your passions, how- 
ever importunate your evil companions, may be; however 
deeply seated your bad habits ; you can, each one can, by 
the help which God is now willing to render him, save his 
soul. 

From this first remark I pass to the immediate subject 
of my discourse — the obligation of securing our salvation. 
As we can save our souls, so we ought to do it. IS'ay, 
this is our only, our all- engrossing duty; and. I shall 
found my proof of it, my brethren, on this plain rule of 
common sense and reason, that one ought to bestow that 
degree of attention and care on any affair which it deserves 
and requires. Every one feels that it would be an occupa- 
tion unworthy of a man to spend his tiiiie in writing letters 
in the sand, or in chasing butterflies from flower to flower ; 
because these occupations are in themselves vain and pro- 
fitless. Again, any one would feel it unreasonable, in the 
father of a family, to set out on a party of pleasure at 
the very moment that his presence was necessary to arrest 
some disaster that threatened his family : not because it 
was wrong in itself for him to seek recreation, but because 
a higher obligation was then urging. Now, applying these 
principles, on which every one acts in matters of daily life, 
to the matter in question ; I say that you are bound to give 
to the work of your salvation your utmost care and attention, 
because the care of your souls supremely deserves and 
urgently requires it. Take in, my brethren, the whole 



THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 213 

Bcope of my proposition. There is a work of great con- 
sequence before you. I do not speak as the world speaks. 
The world tells you that your business here is to get gain, to 
build a house, to rear a family, to leave a name, to enjoy 
yourself I say, no. Your business is to seek the grace 
of God, and to keep it. The world says: seek friends, 
fall in with the stream, court popularity, do as others do, 
act on the principles which receive the sanction of the 
multitude, and a little religion in addition to this will be 
no bad thing. I say, no. Seek first the kingdom of God 
and His justice. Fathers, mothers, sons and daughters, 
masters, servants, ye great ones and ye humble ones of 
the earth, you are all engaged in the same enterprise. 
God has intrusted to each one of vou a soul. He has 
intrusted it to you^ not to another. You cannot devolve 
the responsibility of it on another. That is your care on 
the earth. Whatever cares of other things you may have, 
you cannot neglect that one work, you cannot interrupt 
or postpone it, you cannot put any thing in competition 
with it. If there is a question between any temporal 
advantages, however great, or suffering, however severe, on 
one side, and the salvation of your soul on the other ; 
you must renounce these benefits, embrace those tortures. 
If you must consent to see your family die by inches of 
starvati on, or put your salvation in proximate and certain 
jeopardy, you must see them starve first. I do not say 
the case is likely to happen. God rarely allows men to be 
reduced to such straits. But if the case should occur in the 
line of duty, nay, if the alternative was presented, of 
convertino; the whole world on one side, and avoiding* a 
mortal sin on the other, we must rather consult the welfare 
of our own souls than that of others ; and this not from 
selfishness, but because God has intrusted to us our own 
Bouls, and not the souls of others. And how do I establish 



214 THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 

my proposition? I waive, my brethien, my right to appeal 
to your faith, to speak by the authoiity of Christ, Who is 
infiillible and supreme, and Who has a right to challenge 
your absolute and instantaneous submission and obedience. 
I postpone the consideration of that love which we owe to 
onr Maker, and which onght to make lis prompt and willing 
to do His will. I take my stand on the ground of reason and 
conscience, and I appeal to you to say whether they do not 
sustain my proposition. I make you the judges. It is your 
own case, it is true, yet there are points in which even self- 
love cannot blind our sense of faith ; aiid I ask you whether 
the care of our soul's salvation should not be our sovereign 
and supreme care in life, if it be true that the interests of the 
soul surpass all others in importance, andean not be secured 
without our continual and earnest efforts. Your prompt and 
decided answer in the aiSrmative leaves me nothing more to 
do than to establish the fact that the salvation of your souls 
is in fact so important a task. I will do so by proving 
three points : first, that our souls are our most precious 
possession ; second, that we are in great danger of losing 
them ; and third, that the loss of our souls is the greatest of 
all losses, and is irreparable. 

Our souls are our most precious possession. My brethren, 
we have souls. When God created man He formed his body 
out of the slime of the earth. It was as yet but a lifeless form, 
a beautiful statue, but God breathed upon it and man became 
a living soul. This soul, the spiritual substance which God 
breathed into the body, was formed according to an eternal 
decree of the Blessed Trinity, in resemblance to the Divine 
essence ; that is, endowed with a spiritual nature and possessed 
of understanding and free will. " Let us make man to oui 
image and likeness," said God ; and the sacred writer tella 
us " God created man to His own image;" and, as if to give 
greater emphasis to so important an announcement, he repeats, 



*HE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 2 If 

" To tlie image of God created He him." ^' Man therefore 
is a compound being, consisting of a body and soul, allied to 
the material world through the material body which he pos- 
sesses, and to the world above us, that is, to God and the 
angels, through his soul. Now, the excellence of all creatures 
is in proportion to the degree in which they partake of the 
perfections of God, who is the Author of all being and all 
goodness. All existing substances partake of His perfection 
in some degree ; if they do not show forth His moral attri- 
butes, at least they reflect His omnipotence ; and therefore 
Holy Scripture calls on the fishes of the sea, the beasts of the 
earth, the fowls of the air, the sun, moon, stars, earth, moun- 
tains and hills, to join with angels and men in blessing God. 
But the superiority of angels and souls over material crea- 
tures consists in this, that they partake of the moral perfec- 
tions of God: they show us not only what God can do, but 
what He is. Like Him, they are spiritual beings. " JV/w 
makest Thy angels spirits and Thy ministers a hurning fire^'^ 
says the Psalmist.f They are not gross substances as our 
bodies are, but pure, subtle, immaterial essences. They are 
immortal like Him — at least so as that they can never die. 
They do not need food nor sleep. They are not subject to 
decay, or old age, or death; they are endowed with understand- 
ing and free will, to know many of the things that God knows 
and to love what He loves ; but, above all, to know Him and 
love Him. Hence the value of the soul is really immeasur- 
able, and all the treasures of the earth are not to be compared 
to it. Take the poorest slave on earth, the most wretched 
inmate of the darkest prison, the most afflicted sufferer whom 
disease has reduced to a mass of filth and corruption, and 
that man's soul is more precious and more glorious than the 
richest diadem of the greatest monarch ; nay, than all the- 
treasures of the whole earth, with all the jewels that are hid 

* Gen. i. 26. \ Ps. ciii. 4» 



216 THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 

in the mines and caves under its surface. Our Lord one day 
permitted St. Catherine of Sienna to see a human soul, and 
as she gazed transported at its exceeding beauty, He asked 
her if He had not had good reason to come down from heaven 
to save such a glorious creature. The saint said the soul 
Has so beautiful that, if one could see it, one would be willing 
to suffer all possible pains and torments for love of it. My 
brethren, if, when you go to your homes, you should find in 
your house an angel with his face as the appearance of light- 
ning, his eyes as a burning lamp, his body as a crystal, and 
his feet in appeai^ance like to glittering brass, what would 
you do ? Would you not, like St. John, fall down before his 
feet and adore him ? Would you not faint and fall before 
him, or if you were so strengthened that you could look 
upon the glorious vision, would you not gaze upon it with 
deep and loving awe? Well! such a being you will find 
there, when you go home. It will go hence with you. It 
will remain there as long as you remain there. It will come 
away when you come away. This bright being of whom I 
speak is no visitor in your house, it is an inmate, it rises 
with you in the morning, accompanies you through the day, 
is present with you when you eat, is with you in sickness 
and in health, in life and in death. This bright and glorious 
being is yours — it is more yours than any thing else in the 
world, it is the only thing in the world that is really yours — 
it is yours ; poverty cannot strip you of it, death cannot tear 
it from you ; eternity cannot rob you of it. And this being 
is your soul, your precious, spiritual, immortal soul. All 
things else will forsake you, property, family, friends ; but 
this will never forsake you. It is yours. It is yours inalien- 
ably and for ever. Your greatest, ^^our only wealth and 
treasure. Oh, inestimable dignity ! We arc told of some 
saints, who used to make an act of respect to every one they 
met, by way of saluting his guardian angel, and of others 
that they bowed down before those whom they knew, by the 



THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 217 

spirit of prophecy, would slied their blood for the faith. But 
have we not cause enough to honor man, in the fact that he 
has a soul, an immortal soul, a soul which shall one day see 
God ? Shall we not feel an ample respect for each other, 
my brethren, when we think of what we are t Who could 
ever speak an impure word before another if he thought of 
the dignity of a human soul ? What young man would ever 
dare to go to scenes where he would blush that liis mother 
or sister should be present, if he remembered that he took 
his own soul along with him ? Who would lie, or cheat, 
or steal, if he thought of his soul ? A great and overpower- 
ing thought ; how does it belittle all the pride and ostentation 
of the external world ! Come, my brethren, let us go into 
the streets of this city and look around us. There are stately 
buildings and proud equipages and gay and brilliant shops— 
but what are all these to the concourse of human beings, the 
crowds of immortal souls who are, day by day, making an im- 
mortal destiny. There is the old man tottering along on hrs 
stick, there is the little child on the way to school, there is 
the rich lady with her jewels and costly fabrics, there is the 
laborer with his spade setting out to his daily toil ; and each 
one has a soul, each one will live forever. Let us strive to 
take in this great thought. The tide of liuman beings flows 
on from morning to evening. New faces continually appear. 
They come and go. We do not know their history, their 
destiny ; but we know that each one has a spiritual nature, 
is made to tlie image of God, is possessed of a bright and 
glorious soul. We shall meet them again. There will come 
a day when every one of the throng shall meet again every 
other. New populations shall come in the place of those 
who now inhabit the world. The stones of the greatest build- 
ings shall be reduced to powder, nay, the world itself will be 
reduced to ashes, and each soul that now lives in this city 
will survive in its own individuality and immortality. There 
are some, it is true, who do not seem as if they had souls. There 

10 



218 THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 

are women wlio have given iLemselves up to practices of un- 
eleanness by profession, and men who habitually wallow in 
drunkenness and sensuality ; and the conversation of such 
persons is so horrid and obscene, their countenance so devoid 
of the least trace of shame or self-respect, they seem from 
having neglected their souls almost to have lost them. They 
seem really to have become the brutes whose passions 
they have imitated. No ! even they have souls. They 
cannot be brutes if they would. They are men, they are 
made to the image of God, and so they must ever remain. 
A surgeon^ was once called to atte^nd a man who was 
afflicted with cancer. This terrible disease had affected one 
entire side of the face, and had made in it the most dreadful 
ravages. The cheek was one shapeless mass of putrid flesh ; 
the nose undistinguishable from the other features, the eye com- 
pletely eaten out, and the bones of the forehead perforated like 
a sponge ; but on turning the face of the man, the other side 
presented a wonderful contrast, being in nowise affected, and 
showing no trace of sickness except an excessive pallor. The 
countenance and features were of a noble dignity and beauty, 
and strikingly like the expression ordinarily observed in the 
pictures of out* Blessed Lord. So it is with men's souls. Sin 
has eaten deeply into them, has deprived them of comeliness, 
has almost defaced the form they once had, has blinded their 
minds and deprived them of the interior eye ; but still there 
remain traces of nobility, of the image of God. O man, who- 
ever thou art, however deeply sunk in sin ; I care not whether 
your body be as filtliy as the dunghill or the sink, or your 
heart be the prey of every passion and the slave of every 
vice ; you have a soul: you have indeed lost much, but you 
have much remaining ; you have that which is of more value 
than all else in the world — that wliich is absolutely of more 

* The surgeon alluded to was Dr. Baker, apd a faithful porlrait of the man 
Wifl taken, which was preserved in the lau-^-^ 



THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 219 

ralue than all material tilings ; and wliich to you is of more 
value than all sptritual things, than all created things in earth 
and heaven. You are great and noble and spiritual and im- 
mortal — you are capable of virtue, happiness, and heaven — 
you are like God, you resemble Him. His image is stamped 
upon you. And how little you realize this ! Alas, you will 
realize it at the hour of death. 

But, secondly, we are in danger of losing our souls. To 
lose them in the literal sense is of course impossible, for 
I have said that they are immortal, and will remain with us 
forever. It would be in some way a hajDpiness to the 
wicked, if they could, in this sense, lose their souls, for it 
would free them from the torment of a miserable eternity. 
But that cannot be : the loss of our souls of which we speak 
is the loss of God, who alone is the sufficient and satisfying 
object of our affection. " Thou hast made our souls for 
Thee," says St. Augustine, " and they are not at peace until 
they rest in Thee." The loss of our souls is occasioned by 
sin, which separates us from God, but it is not final and 
irremediable until death overtakes us in this state of 
estrangement. The danger of losing our souls, then, is the 
danger of falling into mortal sin and dying in that state. 
]>row, the danger of sinning is, in the present coarse of God's 
providence, inseparable from the possession of a soul. Free 
will is a high prerogative, which, while it fits us for the 
highest state possible, renders sin also possible. As soon as 
God created the angels, a large part of them rebelled against 
Plim, and were ca^t out of heaven. As soon as He had 
made man, our first parents fell and were cast out of Para- 
dise. It is only a rgitional moral being that can sin; because 
sin is the voluntary transgression of the Divine law, and there- 
fore cannot be committed by any creature but one who has a 
will, that is, intellect and the power of choosing. Almost 
all the material acts of sm which men commit are committed 
by brutes also. See the rage of the tiger, the thieving of the 



220 THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 

fox, the impurity of the goat, the tieachery of the ad Jer, the 
gluttony of the swine. But there are ito sins in these 
brutes, because they have mere blind instincts. Man, how- 
ever, has reason and a will, and therefore he is bound to con- 
trol the instincts which he shares in common with the brutes, 
and his failure to control these constitutes sin. He has a 
soul which belongs to God, and of which God is the sover- 
eign, and his failure to control his passions is rebellion against 
God, and pride. Further, as the possession of a soul renders 
sin possible, so the proclivity to evil, w^liich we inherit from 
the fall, and the temptations of the world, render it exceed- 
ingly probable. I do not know a more 'striking illustration 
of this, than the fear which the saints have ordinarily had 
about their salvation. Their sense of the value of the soul ; 
their deep knowledge of their own hearts, and of the root of 
evil that was in them, the weakness of man without grace, 
and the uncertainty of grace; have kept men of the greatest 
sanctity, men who have w^rought miracles, who have cast out 
devils, who have raised the dead to life, always anxious about 
their perseverance, alwaj^s begging of God the grace never to 
to allow them to commit a mortal sin. But if these reasons are 
enough to make saints tremble, what reasons have not ordi- 
narv Christians to fear ! A chain of evil habits, unmiarded 
intercourse with men, the constant contact with the world, 
how fearfully do they augment tlie risk of losing our souls, 
which all run necessarily in this world. Why, listen to the 
conversation of ten men, taken almost at random in this city ; 
for half an hour walk throuo-li the citv, from one end to the 
other ; and see if the occasions of sin are not more frequent 
than can be uttered. This is deeply felt by men of the world 
themselves. It makes them despair. They say there is no pos- 
sibility of saving their souls in the world. They say it is all 
in vain to try — :that sin meets them at eveiy step. It is iu*)t, 
of course, true that sin is inevitable. If it were, it would not 
be sin. But it is true that the atmosphere of the world is fear* 



THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 221 

fiiUy surcharged with evil. There is many a home in this 
city, many a place of public resort, many a den of secret 
iniquity, many a gaming-room, and drinking-house, over 
which there is an inscription legible to the angels, written in 
letters of fire, " The gate of hell." There are many places 
where souls are sold daily and hourly, and oh, at what a 
price ! Thirty pieces of silver was the price ofiered for our 
Redeemer, but the soul is often sold for one, indeed, often for 
something still more miserable — for the gratification of an 
impure passion, for the indulgence of revenge, for a day's 
frolic. It is true the Evil One does not carry on his traffic 
under its own name and openly — that it is well concealed 
under specious pretences; but the danger is only so much the 
greater. The occasions of sin are everywhere spread under 
our feet like traps and snares, and encircling us on all 
sides like nets. But even this is not the worst. The loss of 
God is not only possible because of our free will, probable 
because of the corruption of the world, but, in many cases, 
already certain. Men, on all sides, have lost God, and need 
only an unforeseen death to make certain the loss of their 
souls. Who can tell how many are living in a state of mortal 
sin, month by month, day by day, year by year 1 They go on 
securely, smilingly ; externally all goes on smoothly ; they are 
successful and- seemingly happy ; they have plans for many 
years to come ; but a voice has spoken, " Thou fool, this 
night shall they require thy soul of thee." Oh ! how many 
died in mortal sin last year, how many will die in mortal sin 
next year ! It needs only a little thing, a false step, a rail- 
way accident, an attack of fever, a change in the weather, a 
fit of apoplexy, and they are launched into eternity without 
warning "and ^nthout preparation — death sealing for perdi- 
tion those whom it finds deprived of the grace of God. 
Who, I say, can wonder at this, when he looks around him, 
and sees how little the soul is valued? O my God! it is 
enough to make the heart sick. Let us take a Catholic 



222 THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 

family, tot I will not take things at the worst. A father has 
a family of children. He must send them to school or col- 
lege. He finds an institution w^hich pleases him, and he will 
tell you that his children are doing excellently, and that the 
only draw^back is that the school is Protestant or infidel. Is 
not this to betray the souls of his own children ? Sunday 
comes : it is true that there is the obligation to hear Mass, 
but some inducement offers itself to idleness or dissipation, 
and no Mass is heard, because it is only the soul which is in- 
jured by the omission. Monday comes : there is an opportu- 
nity of making some little gain in an unlawful way. Wliat 
does it matter? We must get rich, and do like our 
neighbors. The sons grow up in ignorance, and spend their 
time mostly at the gaming-table or the place of carousal. 
The daughters grow up. They must be led by their motlier 
to every scene of folly and sin, because the custom of society 
requires it. Easter comes : the young people do not like to 
go to confession, and they add only one sin more, to those with 
which their hearts are already charged. And then the parents 
die, and the children come forward to take their places, and 
to bring up their children in still greater neglect and laxity. 
Thus Catholics are trained for the world, and souls for hell ; 
and if we take into the account the graver forms of vice, and 
consider how many are entirely the slaves of passion, we 
shall not wonder that there are so few that shall be saved. 
One of the Fathers, speaking of the great responsibility of 
the priesthood, dilates on the impossibility of a priest's being 
saved without great exertion and watchfulness. But if it be 
difiicult for a priest to save his soul ; what shall I say of the 
laity, when I consider the prevailing habits of Catholics. It 
hardly seems to me too strong to say, that to me it would 
seem a miracle for any such one to be saved. How will 
men attain that which they do not care for, to which they 
give no tliought ? And so it is with the salvation of the soul. 
Who thinks about it ? Who takes any pains for it ? Who 



THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 223 

makes any sacritice for it ? The soul is more precious than any 
thing else, and yet every thing else is put before it. It is 
trampled on in business, betrayed in friendships, choked by 
domestic cares, imprisoned in the filthy bodies of the 
licentious, and, as it were, annihilated in the drunkard. It is 
forgotten, neglected, outraged, despised, ignored. It is not 
so much sold as thrown away. The body is cared for with 
the most supreme solicitude. Every pain and ache is re- 
lieved. Long journeys are undertaken to recover health that 
is lost or only tlireatened. The most celebrated physicians are 
sought after with eagerness. But the soul is allowed for weeks 
and months and years to go on in a state of spiritual death. 
Confession, prayer, the sacraments, means so easy, means 
truly infallible in their efficacy, means within the reach of 
all, are neglected, on pretences the most frivolous, without 
reason, and almost without motive. " Who will give water to 
my head^ and a fountain of tears to my eyes^ and I will weep 
day andj night for the slain of the daughter of my people .^" ^ 
The loss of our souls is the greatest of all evils, because it 
is irremediable. I will not go into all that this point contains. 
It is too great a subject for us at present. I will not dwell 
on all that is meant by the loss of our souls, but I will con- 
sider it simply as it is, the failure of reaching our end aiid 
destiny, and as irreparable. And to help ns to realize this, 1 
will summon as a witness one who was the first to come short 
of his destiny, the devil. We do not know how long it was 
after the creation of the angels that the devil sinned and fell ; 
but certainly there was a time when he was a pure, bright 
spirit, rejoicing in the greatness of his endowments, and with 
a hope full of immortality. But there came a moment of 
darkness. He sinned : he was judged : he was cast from 
heaven , and he sank into hell. There he is now. He is con- 
fined in chains and darkness. The tree has fallen ; and as it has 
fallen to the north or to the south, so must it lie forever. Other 

* Jer. ix. 1. 



224 THE NECESSITY OF SALVATION. 

mistakes may be rectified, "but this never. A loss in busiiiefts 
may be made good by greater exertions and prudence ; a 
broken-down constitution may be repaired by art and care : 
a lost reputation may be recovered by integrity and consist- 
ency in well-doing ; earthly sorrow may be healed by time 
and other objects ; sin may be rooted out by penance ; but 
the loss of the soul is an evil complete and irreparable, and 
brings with it an undying remorse. "A tree hath hope : if it 
ie cut down^ it groweth green again^ and the houghs thereof 
sprout. If its root he old in the earth and its stock he dead 
in the dust^ at the scent of water it shqil spring and hring 
forth leaves as when it was first planted ^'"'^ But man, when 
he shall be dead and stripped and consumed, I pray you, 
where is he ? . The cry of despair which the first lost soul 
uttered when he made the terrible discovery that he was 
really lost, is still ringing in the abodes of ih^ damned, and 
the keenness of his misery is still unabated. Ages shall go 
on, the last day shall come, and an eternity shall follow it, and 
that cry of despair will still be as thrilling, and that anguish 
as new and as irremediable. 

As reasonable men, I have appealed to you : what is your 
decision ? What does reason, what does conscience, what 
does self-interest say ? You would not be listless if I were to 
speak to you of your property, your health, your reputation, 
but now I speak to you of your souls — ^}^our precious, immor- 
tal souls — your own, your greatest good — a good that you are 
in danger of losing — the good w^hose loss is overwhelming and 
irretrievable. They are in your hands for life or for death. It is 
said that to one of the heathen soothsayers, who was famed for 
his skill in discovering hidden things, a person once came with 
a living bird in his hand, and asked the seer to tell whether it 
was living or dead. The inquirer intended to crush the bird with 
his handif the wise man should say it was living, and to let it fly 
if he should say it was dead, and thus in either case to put the 

* Job xiv. 7, 8, 9. 



TH£ KECE^SITY OF SALVATION. 226 

pi'etended magician to shame. But the soothsayer sus- 
pected the design, and answered : " The bird is in your hand — 
to kill it or to let it live." So I answer you, my brethren. 
Your souls are in your hands, to kill them or to let them 
live. You can crush them in your grasp and smother their 
convictions, or you can open your hand and let them fly 
forth in freedom and gladness. Oh, have pity on your souls ! 
Your souls are yours. 'So one will be the loser by the loss 
of your souls but yourselves. God will not be the less happy 
if you are damned ; the saints will not lose any of their hap- 
piness if you fail of your salvation ; the angels will be as 
light and blissful ; the earth will go on just the same as when 
you were on it ; only you, you yourselves will feel it, and 
you will feel it hopelessly. Ah, then, take pity on your 
souls ! You will one day wish that you had done it. One 
of the courtiers of Francis the First of France^ when he was 
dying, said : '* Oh ! how many reams of paper have I written 
in the service of my monajTh ! Oh ! that I had only spent 
one quarter of an hour in the service of my soul !" A quar- 
ter of an hour ! And you have days and weeks. Oh, then, 
once more I beg you to take pity on your souls! If you 
have never before seriously taken to heart your eternal in- 
terest, at least do so now. Improve the time of this mission. 
It is the time of grace. It may be to you the last call, the 
last opportunity. Make, then, a good use of this time. Set 
aside the thought of other things, and g-ive yourself to this 
alone. Now you have an opportunity of making your peace 
with God, and savino; vour soul. Think, now the hour has 
come, foreseen by God from all eternity, when, answering to 
the call of grace, I shall regain His favor, which, alas ! I have 
lost too long. "What shall keep me back ? See what is the 
difficulty, and weigh it in the scales with your immortal 
soul. Is confession difficult ? A confession before the whole 
universe will be more so. Is it hard to lose a little gain? 
It wiU be more so to lose your soul. Is it hard to break s^ 
10* 



226 Mortal sii^. . 

tie of long standing ? It will be hard to break every tie, and to 
live in eternal desolation. Is it hard to bear the remarks of 
companions ? But how will you bear the taunts and jeers of 
the devil and his angels ? And those very companions who 
have led you to hell will taunt you for your base compliance 
to them. Let nothing, then, keep you back. -5^ ^ -^^ 
(Peroration, according to the circumstances.) 



SEEMON II. 

MORTAL SIN. 

(mission sermon.) 

" Know thou, and see, that it is an evil and a bitter thing for thee, to have 
left the Lord thy God."— Jer. ii. 19. 

In the book of the prophet Ezechiel it is related that God 
ehowed to the prophet in a vision the city of Jerusalem. It 
was all stretched out before him in its greatness and in its 
beauty. The magnificent temple was there, with its stones 
and spires glittering in the sun ; its streets were full of peo- 
ple, prosperous and happy ; a people who were in possession 
of the true religion, w^ho had been adopted by God as His 
children, and over whom He had exercised a special pro- 
tection. It was a beautiful sight ; beautiful to the eye, and 
well fitted to excite the most religious emotions in the mind. 
But there was somethino- that checked these feelino-s of 
pleasure and delight. God permitted the prophet to see the 
interior of that city. He unfolded before liim the secret 
abominations that were practised there. He showed him the 
idolatries and impurities to which his chosen people the J ews 
had delivered themselves up, and then in wrath and indigna- 
tion God complained of the people and said : " The iniquity 
of the house of Israel and of Juda is exceeding great ; and 
the land is filled with hlood ; and the city is filled with jpet^ 



MORTAL SIN. 227 

Terseness, for they have said^' The Lord hath forsaken the 
earthy and the Lord seeth notP ^ Then tlie joy of the prophet 
was turned into sorrow. 

To-night, my brethren, a vision meets my eye hardly lesa 
beautiful than that which met the eye of the prophet. How 
beautiful a sight is this church and this congregation! This 
church is raised to the honor of the true God. Its walls are 
salvation and its gates praise. And this congregation, beau- 
tiful as it is in the assemblage of a multitude of living, in- 
telligent beings — where I see the old man with his crown of 
silver hair, the young man and the young woman in the 
freshness of their bloom and youth — is much more so re- 
garded as a Catholic congregation, as professing the true 
faith. But tell me — for I cannot look into your hearts as the 
prophet did — tell me, does God see, beneath this beautiful, out- 
ward appearance, the abominations of iniquity ? Does God 
this night see in this church some heart that is in mortal sin ? 
Some Catholic who has renounced, if not his faith, at least 
the practice of his faith? Some child of passion who has 
swerved from the path of justice, lost his conscience and the 
sense of sin, and given himself to the service of the devil ? 
Are there any here to-night in mortal sin % There may be. I 
will confess, and you will not think me uncharitable in doing 
so, I believe there are some. I know not how many, but 
from what I know of the world, I believe there are some 
here, in this congregation, whose consciences tell them they 
are in mortal sin. Oh ! then, let me tell them what they have 

done. Let me show them what mortal sin is. Let me prove 
» -»- 

to them that it is an evil and a bitter thing for them to have 
left the Lord their God. This is my subject to-night. I 
will show you the dreadfulness of mortal sin : first, from its 
^.ature ; secondly, from its efiects on the soul ; and thirdly, 
from its eternal consequences. 

You know, my dear brethren, that we were created to 

♦Ezechiel ix. 9. 



228 MOKTAL SIN. 

love and serve God in this life, <and to be liappy forever with 
Him in heaven. God has given ns this world, and our own 
nature, all that we have or are; and He is willing that we 
should enjoy the world and act out our nature. It is true, 
there are certain restrictions which He has given us. These 
restrictions are contained in His law, embodied in the ten 
commandments. In these commandments God has circum- 
scribed our liberty, has put limits to what we may do ; but I 
need not say that these limits have been so fixed, not in order 
to abridge our happiness, but really to increase it. So the 
case stands on God's part. But now, on our part, we have 
an inclination to disregard the limits God has put on our use 
of the world, and to place our happiness in the creature. 
The world smiles before us, and we think this or that enjoy- 
ment would make us happy. It may often happen that the 
very enjoyment and comfort is one which God has forbid- 
den ; but no matter, we are strongly inclined to seize it, 
nevertheless, and to gratify our desire in spite of the prohibi- 
tion. This inclination is w^hat is called concupiscence, and 
is sometimes exceedingly strong, so that it is very difficult 
to resist it. God has, however, always given us reason and 
faith, free will and grace, to enable us to overcome it. This, 
then, being so, you see that man stands between two claimants : 
the world on the one hand, inviting him to follow his own 
corrupt inclinations ; on the other, God requiring him to re- 
strain his passions by the rules of virtue and religion. Now, 
what takes place under such circumstances? Alas, my 
brethren, I will tell you what too often takes, place. I will 
tell you what takes place so commonly that inen take it for 
granted that it must be so — so commonly that the majority 
of men cease to wonder at it — what happens every day, every 
hour, every minute. It happens that men listen to the voice 
of passion, renounce virtue and reason, stifle grace, and turn 
away from God, to satisfy their desire for the creature. This 
is what happens daily, hourly, momentarily ; and this is mor- 



MOBTAL SIN. 229 

tal sin, wliicli is in its nature tlie greatest of all evils, con- 
bidered in its relation botli to God and man, as I am about 
to sliow you in this first part of my discourse. 

Understand me, my brethren : the sin I am going to speak 
of is mortal sin. I do not say that every transgression of 
the law of God is mortal. You know that it is not so. 
Ton know that there some actions which men commit, which 
are forbidden, but by which a man does not mean really to 
give up the friendship of God — some sins which are not com- 
mitted with full deliberation, some sins in which the matter 
is very small, some sins which come more from ignorance or 
frailty than from malice ; and which God, Who sees things 
just as they are, does not regard as grievous. He is dis- 
pleased with them, but not mortally ofiended. He punishes 
them, but not with the utter withdrawal of His favor. If 
He did, who of us could be saved ? But every sin in which 
the soul sees clearly that she must choose between the friend- 
ship of God and the gratification of unlawful passion — in 
which, with full deliberation, in full defiance of any grave 
precept of God or the Holy Church, she obeys the call of 
corrupt nature, every such sin, is mortal, that is, grievously 
offends God and cuts off the soul from His grace. Do you 
want to know what a mortal sin is ? It is an insult offered 
to God — Almighty God. One trembles to say it, but so it 
is. Yes ! if you have committed one mortal sin, you have 
insulted Almighty God. And there is every thing in the 
act to make the insult deep and deadly. The greatness of 
an insult is measured by the comparative importance of the 
persons between whom the offence passes. If one should 
come into the church and strike the bishop on his throne, 
would you not feel more indignant than if a common man 
in the street were the object of the insult ? You have heaxd 
how Pius the Sixth was insulted ; dragged about from place 
to place, until he died ; and did you not feel indignant that 
8uch outrages were committed on the person of God's vice 



2S0 MORTAL SIN. 

gerent ? Now, when joii committed a mortal sin you in- 
sulted, not the vicegerent of God, but God himself. You 
contemned His authority and despised His greatness. Would 
you know Who it is Whom you have offended ? Look at 
that mountain trembling with earthquakes, and breathing 
forth smoke and flame, hear the thunder roll around its head, 
and see the lightning flash ! Mark the people, how they fall 
back affrighted and terrified ! What is the cause of these 
convulsions of nature, and this terror of the people ? God is 
speaking. He spake in Mount Sinai and the earth trem- 
bled before Him ; and it is His words tlLcn spoken that you 
have defied, O sinner ! Are you not afraid of His vengeance 
Whom you have offended ? Open the heavens and see the 
angels, thousands of thousands and ten thousand times ten 
thousand, prostrate before Him. See all the saints adoring 
Him — the Blessed Virgin Mary herself trembling before His 
greatness. And you insult Him ! What are you ? A crea- 
ture, a dependant, a slave. What would a master do if his 
slave should strike him ? And you, a servant, a slave, a mere 
nothing, have not hesitated to raise your hand against Al 
mighty God ! 

And for what have you done all this ? For the pleasure 
of sin. You have preferred a vile, temporary gratification, 
to the favor of Almighty God. When you sinned, there was 
on one side the beauty of God, the beauty of perfection, the 
splendor of grace, the joy of saints, peace of conscience, 
heaven ; on the other there was the false pleasure of sin. 
You weighed them in the balance one with another, and, oh 
folly ! in your estimation a moment's sin outweighed God 
and heaven and eternity. This is what the Almighty com- 
plains of in Holy Scripture : " They violated me among my 
2?eoj[)le fo"^ a handful of harley and a piece of hread to kill 
souls which should 7iot dieP"^ Oh ! for how small a thing it 

* Ezech. jiii. 19. 



MORTAL SIN, 231 

is tLat you have been content to lose God — a few dollars of 
unjust gain, human respect, the gratification of revenge, a 
night's debauch, a half-hour's indulgence of sinful thoughts, 
a forbidden word, an intoxicating glass : for this you have 
thrown to the winds God and heaven. What has He not 
done for you ? He takes care of you and gives you all you 
bave. It is He who warms you by the sun, refreshes you 
by the air, gladdens and nourishes you by the green field. 
It is He who brought you through the dangerous time of 
childhood, who led you up through manhood, who redeemed 
you by His blood, made you a Catholic, and gave you your par- 
ents, friends, every blessing, and the hope of heaven beyond 
this life, and you have grieved and hated Him. See Jesus 
Christ before the Jews. He has spent His life in doing them 
2:ood. He has labored for them and is about to die for them. 
And now they spit on Him, they buffet Him, they crown 
Him with thorns and bow the knee in mockery before Him. 
Nay, O sinner ! thou art the Jew who did this. Thou by 
thy mortal sin hast made him an object of scorn. Thoa hast 
spit upon Him, thou hast stabbed Him to the heart. Would 
you excuse a son from the guilt of parricide who should 
strike a knife to his father's heart, and should miss his aim ? 
So, the sinner is no less guilty of the crime against the life 
of God because God cannot die. If God could die or cease 
to be, mortal sin is that which would kill Him. You haA e 
aimed a blow at the life of^youj^ best benefactor, of your 
God. And this is what passes in the world for alight thing. 
This is what men laugh at and boast of over their cups. 
This is what the world excuses, and takes for a matter of 
course ; yes, this is what even boys and girls, as they grow 
ap, desire not to be ignorant of — that they may know how 
to offend God. This is sin, so easily committed and so 
often committed, so quickly committed and so soon foigotten. 
Such it is in the sight of God and the holy angels. O sin- 
ner! when you smile, often when you are rejoicing ovei 



232 MOETAL SIN. 

your wicked pleasure, tlie heavens are black overhead, and 
God is angry, and the angel of vengeance stands at your side 
with a glittering spear, that he may plunge it in your heart. 
While you are careless, heaven and earth are groaning over 
your guilt. " Wo7ider^ ye heavens^ and he in amaze- 
ment^'^ says God by the prophet. " My jpeoi^le have done 
two evils. They have left me^ the fountain of living water^ 
and have digged out cislcrnSy iroJcen cisterns^ that can hold 
no %oaterP '' Hear^ heavens^ and give ear^ earthy for the 
Lord hath spoTten, I have hroiight uj) children and exalted 
them^ hut they have desj>ised me. The ox hnoweth his owner 
and the ass his master^s crih^ hut Israel hath not known me^ 
and my people hath not imderstood. Woe to the sinful nation^ 
a people laden with iniquity^ a wicked seed^ ungracious 
children : they have forsaken the Lord^ they have hlaspherned 
the Holy one of Israel^ they have gone away hacku^ardP^ 

But in the second place, mortal sin is the greatest of all 
evils as regards the sinner himself. Let us consider what are 
its effects. Ah, my brethren, some of these effects are obvious 
enough. We have not to go far to seek them. We know 
ihem ourselves. What is the cause of much of the sickness 
that affects our race ? What but sin ? What is it that has 
I Dined so many reputations, that once were fair andumbiem- 
i^hed ? What is it that has destroyed the peace of so many 
families? It is sin. What is it that makes so many young 
persons prematurely old, which steals the bloom from the 
cheek and the lustre from the eye, and gladness from the 
heart, and strength from the voice, and elasticity from the 
gait ? Ah ! it is sin. Yes ! the effects of sin are visible and 
obvious to all around us, and these external effects of sin are 
dreadful enough, but they are not so dreadful as the interna, 
eft'f^cts, on which I puri)Ose particularly to dwell. Well, my 
brethren, I just said that tlie nature of a mortal sin is to turu 

* Isai. i. 2, 3^ %. 



MORTAL SIN. 233 

away from God to the creature. Kow, its effect is tc kill the 
soul. There is a twofold life of the soul. One is a natural 
life, and this it can never lose, not even in hell, since it can 
never cease to be ; and the other is the life of grace. You 
know, my brethren, that in the heart of a good Christian 
there dwells a wonderful quality, the gift of the Holy Ghost, 
which we call grace. It is given first in baptism, and 
resides habitually in the soul unless it is lost by mortal sin. 
Tjiis it is which makes the soul acceptable to God, and 
capable of pleasing Him, and of meriting heaven. This 
grace was purchased for us by the blood of Jesus Christ, and 
is the most precious gift of God. It ennobles, beautifies, 
elevates, strengthens, and enlightens the soul in which it 
dwells : in a word, it is the life of the soul. This grace abides 
in the soul of every faithful Christian, the little child, the vir- 
tuous young man and young woman, the old man and the 
matron, the rich and the poor. Every one who is in the state 
of friendship with God is possessed of this grace. He may be 
poor, sick, weak in body, disgusting as Lazarus was, but if 
he is the friend of God, his soul is endowed with the gift of 
grace. Now, the moment that one commits a mortal sin, the 
moment that a baptized Christian turns away from God to the 
creature, that moment his soul is stripped of this divine grace. 
The moment that a mortal sin is committed, in an instant, in 
the twinkling of an eye, that robe of grace falls off from the 
Boul and leaves it in its deformitv and weakness. It cannot 
be otberwise. '^ Can two walk together," says Holy Scrip- 
ture, •' and not be agreed ?" Can God remain united to the sou' 
whicli has cast Him off by an act of complete and formal rebel 
lion? Oh, no! God bears much with us. He retains His 
friendship for us as long as He can. He restrains His displeas- 
ure when we are weak and irresolute and tired in His service ; 
ves, when we a little turn om' heads and hearts toward that 
world which we have renounced, when we do things that, 
although wrong, are npt altogether so grievous aB to amount 



234 MORTAL SIN. 

to a renunciation of His friendsliip : but once make a full 
clioice between God and tlie creature, and God's friendsliip 
is lost. You cannot reject it and retain it at the same time. 
God sees things exactly as they are : as you act toward Him, 
He will act toward you. By mortal sin you renounce Him, 
and therefore He must renounce you. How can 1 describe 
to you the change that takes place in that moment ? It has 
more resemblance to the degradation of a priest than any 
thing else. If a priest commits certain great crimes, the Church 
prescribes that he be solemnly degraded from the priesthood ; 
and nothing is more dreadful than the ceremonial. He stands 
before the bishop, clad in his sacred Vestments, with alb and 
cincture, and maniple and stole, and with the chalice in which 
he has been wont to consecrate the blood of the Lord in his 
hands. • Then when the sentence of degradation has been 
pronounced, the chalice is taken out of his hands — he shall 
oiier the sacrifice of the Lord's body no more ; the golden 
chasuble is taken off his back, no more shall he bear the glory 
of the priesthood ; the stole is seized from off his neck — ^lie has 
lost the stole of immortality ; the white alb is torn from him — 
he has lost the beauty of innocence ; and last of all, his hands, 
on which at his ordination the holy oil was poured, are 
a.-^raped — he has lost the unction of the Holy Ghost. So it is 
in the moment that one commits a mortal sin. The Holy 
Scripture calls every Christian a king and a priest, because in 
his soul he is noble and united to God ; and the soul of the 
meanest Christian is far more beautiful in God's sight than the 
grandest monarch, dressed in his richest robes, is to our sight. 
Well, now, as soon as a mortal sin is committed, and God de- 
parts, then the degradation of the soul takes place. The devil 
tears away the garment of justice, the splendor of beauty, the 
whiteness of innocence, the robe of immortality, which make 
the soul worthy of the companionship of angels, and the 
friendship of God. All, all are gone. Oh, how abject and 
wretched i^ such a soul ! Oh ! how quickly will this awful 



MORTAL SIN. 235 

change go on, and even the poor soul herself thinks not of it ! 
And do not think this horrible history is of rare occurrence, 
No ! it takes place in every case of mortal sin. Look at that 
young man. See, his air and bearing show you that he knowa 
something of the world, and that life has no secrets for him. 
Still there was once a time when that young man was inno- 
cent. He was a good Catholic child, his soul glistened with 
the brightness of baptismal grace. God looked down from 
heaven and smiled with pleasure ; his guardian angel followed 
him in watchfulness indeed, but with joy and hope. He had his 
little trials, but what was it all — what was poverty or sickn ess 
or disappointment ? Was he not a Christian ? Was he not a 
friend of God, was not his soul beautiful in God's sight ? 
Such he was ; but a day came, a dark and dreadful day, when 
a voice, a seducing voice, spoke in the paradise of that heart : 
" Rejoice^ therefore^ O young man^ in thy youth^ and let thy 
heart cheer thee in the d.ays of thy youth^ and walk in the ways 
of thy hearty and in the sight of thine eyes^^ He listened 
to that voice and he fell : he was a. changed being, he had com- 
mitted his first mortal sin. Oh ! if he could have seen the 
angry frown of God, the sad and downcast look of his guardian 
angel. Oh ! if he could have heard the shriek of triumph that 
came up from the devils in hell. " Thou art also wounded as 
well as we^ thou art become liTte unto us. Thy pride is brought 
down to hell. Thy carcass is fallen d.oionP f But he hears 
nothing, he sees nothing, his brain is on fire, his heart is burned 
by passion. The world opens to him her brilliant pleasures, and 
he is perverted. His tastes and thoughts are all corrupted. 
He does not like the sacraments any more, or Mass or prayer ; 
his delight is in haunts of dissipation, in drinking and de- 
bauchery. He commits ^N^yj mortal sin, and each deepens 
the stains of his soul and increases his misery. Perhaps here 
and there, for a while, he comes to confession, but he falls 

♦Eocles. xi. 9. f^sai. xiv. 10, 11. 



236 MORTAL SIN. 

back. He neglects Lis cliurcli, begins to cnrse and blaspheme 
holy tilings, and then he is a wretched being, astray from 
God, with God's curse upon him, the slave of the devil, the 
heir of hell, fair indeed without ; bnt look within— full of rot- 
tenness and uncleanness. Oh, weep for him — ^^ Weep not /or 
the dead^'^ says Holy Scripture, '^ lament for him that goeth 
away^ for he shall not return again?*' ^ Weep for that 
young man who has wandered away from his God. Weep 
for that young woman who has stained her soul with mortal 
sin. Weep for that old man who has let years go by in sin, 
and whose sins are counted by the thousand. Weep not for 
your child who leaves you to go to a distant land, but weep 
for him who is on his way to the land of eternal night, where 
everlasting horror inhabiteth. Weep for him who is on his 
way to hell. Is it not a story to' make one weep ? The ruin 
of a soul ! '^ How is the gold hecome dim^ the fairest color is 
changed^ the nohle sons of Sion^ and they that were clothed 
with the l)est of gold^ hov) are they esteemed as earthen ves- 
sels^ and the iniquity of thq daughter of my peojple is made 
greater than the sin of Sodom P ^ Once you were innocent, 
now you are guilty. Once you had a fair chance of heaven, 
now heaven is closed to you. Once, perhaps, you had rich 
merits laid up for heaven, you had gone through many trials, 
you had borne many suflerings, had achieved many labors of 
piety, and for each of them the good God, who never allows 
any good work to go unrewarded, had added many a jewel 
to your crown ; but, alas ! that crown is broken, those jewels 
scattered and crushed, those merits lost. And what has done 
this. That mortal sin ! that rebellion against God, that sin- 
ful gratification, that turning away from God and loss of 
grace which it brought with it. Ah ! my brethren, when I 
think of these things, when I think that Christians are falling 
into Bin, and, for a very trille and a nothing, losing the favor 

♦ Jer. xxii. 10. f Lam. iv. 1, 2, 6. 



MORTAL SIN. 237 

of God, I feel as if I wished all preachers sho^ald go out to the 
whole world and cry out : " Know thoii and see that it is an 
evil and a bitter thing for thee to have left the Lord thy God.'^ 
I am not surprised that St. Ignatius said he would be wil- 
ling to do all he did for the prevention of one mortal sin. 

But, my brethren I have not as yet described the full 
effects of mortal sin. It immediately makes us liable to the 
eternal punishment of hell. That is what hell is made for. 
It IS the prison for mortal sin. Apostates from the faith, 
drunkards, murderers, adulterers, the impure, the dishonest, 
the profane, the impious, calumniators, and all sinners " shall 
have their portion in the pool burning with fire and brimstone, 
which is the second death." The sentence of damnation is 
in the next life, but damnation itself begins in this. Each 
one of us is a candidate for heaven or hell, at this present 
moment. Hell is not something which is assigned to us 
arbitrarily. We dig our own hell for ourselves. When we 
first commit a mortal sin we open hell under our feet, and 
every time we commit a fresh mortal sin we deepen tliat 
hell. It may happen even that the sentence is passed in the 
same instant that we sin. Many men die in the very act of 
sin. The fallen angels, themselves, sank into hell the very 
instant they committed mortal sin, and the instant they 
committed the first mortal sin. You know, my brethren, 
that the angels were created very beautiful and powerful. 
There were myriads and myriads of them. They were 
as beautiful as Gabriel or Michael or Raphael ; and yet, 
as soon as they committed one mortal sin, notwithstanding 
their glory, their beauty, their number, their splendid 
intellects, their power, they were hurled from the thrones of 
heaven ; not only defaced, degraded, and dishonored by the 
loss of sanctifying grace, but condemned to hell, chained in 
everlasting darkness, waiting for the judgment of the great 
day. If God dealt so with the angels, surely there is nothing 
unjust in cutting off the days of a sinner in the very moment 



233 MORTAL SIN. 

of sin. Oh ! mj brethren, I will tell you what happens 
when one sins : the devils come and claim this soul as their 
own : this poor soul becomes the slave of tlie devil, the heir of 
hell and of damnation. It is not for nothing, then, that 
conscience miakes such a terrible alarm in the soul when we 
commit a mortal sin. Tell me, did you not at the moment 
you sinned hear a stern voice speaking in the depths of your 
heai*t? Tell me, O my brethren, did you not, when you 
were deeply plunged in sinful enjoyment, feel a dreadful 
pang at your heart ? Tell me, now that you stand in God's 
holy presence, tell me now, is there not something within 
you that tells you, you are ruined ? AVhat is that ? Ah ! 
that is the beginning of the remorse of the damned/*" That 
is the sting of the worm that shall never die. That is the 
shadow of thine eternal doom in thy soul. It tells thee 
that thou art the child of the devil; it tells thee that 
thou hast lost God, and that thou art not fit for heaven, 
but art an heir of hell. And it tells thee truly. If this 
moment thou wert to die, like Dives, thou wouldst be 
buried in hell. And why ? For a momentary gratification 
of appetite ? Is that what you will be punished for ? l^To ; 
but because, for a momentary gratification of appetite, thou 
hast forsaken the Lord thy God, broken His law, lost His 
grace. Thou hast made thy choice. Th>Du hast chosen sin 
and not God, and death overtakes thee before thou hast 
returned to God by penance, and thou art lost; lost on 
account of thy sin, lost forever on account of thy sin. 
Go down to the chambers of hell, ask Dives, ask Judas, 
ask the fallen angels, ask each one who in that dark abode 
drags out a long eternity; ask them what it is that brought 
them there, and they will tell you, mortal sin. It is mortal 
sin that kindles that flame, tliat feeds that fire, that makes 
them burn unceasingly, and forever. Oh then, tell me ! if 
you will not listen to reason, to God, to the angels; will 
you not listen to your companions lest ? Hearken to them as 



THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT. 239 

from tlieir daik prison they cry out, " It is an evil and a 
bitter thing to have left the Lord thy God.'' 

Such, my brethren, is mortal sin. Such is one mortal 
sin. It does not require many mortal sins to lose God's 
grace or incur damnation. One is enough — one final de- 
liberate rebellion against God and his holy law. -J^" ^ * 

(Peroration, according to the circumstances.) 



SERMON III. 

THE PARTICULAR JUD(31MENT. 

(mission sermon.) 

■'It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." — Heb. X. 31. 

There is a moment, my brethren, in the history of each 
iramoi tal soul, which, of all others that precede or follow it, 
is the fullest of experience : the moment after death. The 
moment of death is indeed the decisive moment of om* his- 
tory. Then tlie question is settled, once for all, whether we 
are to be happy or miserable for all eternity ; but, for the 
most part, we do not know that decision. Many men die in- 
sensible. By far the largest part of those I have seen die, 
have died insensible. And even when the power of the mind 
remains to the last, it is extremely difficult to form any true 
conception of that . state of things into which the soul is 
about to be ushered. It is difficult to conceive aright before- 
hand of any thing to which we are unaccustomed. Did it 
ever happen to you to visit a strange country, and to form 
anticipations of what it would seem like, and did not the 
reality falsify all your anticipations ? Well, how much more 
difficult to realize those things which the soul sees immedi- 
Rtelv after death, and which are so much farther removed 



240 THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT. 

from our former experience ! According to Catholic theology, 
immediately after death, the soul appears in the presence of 
Jesus Christ to be judged — to receive an unalterable sentence 
to lieaven or to hell. If to hell, no prayers can benefit it ; if 
to heaven, it goes there immediately or not, according to the 
degree of its goodness. But it is judged unalterably to heaven 
or hell, the moment after death. And Catholic theologians 
teach that this judgment takes place in the very cliamber of 
death itself. There, in that room, while they are dressing the 
body for the grave, closing the eyes, bandaging the mouth, 
arranging the limbs in order, that soid has already learned 
the secrets of ' the eternal world. Naked and alone, it had 
stood before its Judge, and heard its doom pronounced. To 
every one, no doubt, even to the most pious, to those who 
have meditated on the truths of faith, there w^ill be something 
alarming in tliis moment; but, oh! what wdll it be to the 
sinful Catholic ? What will be the thoughts and feelings of 
that large class of Catholics, now^ careless about their salva- 
tion, who are obeying every impulse of passion, and breaking 
every commandment of God? This, indeed, is a diflicult 
question to answer. There is but little in this world that 
can help us to portray the emotions of the lost Catholic, the 
moment after death ; b^tt I will not on this account desist 
from attempting to describe it. I will consider your ad- 
vantage rather than my own satisfaction, and though I feel 
deeply that I shall not be able to describe the scene I under- 
take in anything like the colors of truth, I will undertake to 
do what I can. 

First, then, following the soul beyond the limits of this 
world, I see her overwhelmed with a conviction of the reality 
and truth of the objects of her faith. Now, in saying that 
this soul obtains a conviction of the truths of faith, I do not 
mean to suppose the case of one who has been a sceptic in 
this world. The truth is, faith is so strong a principle in the 
heart of a Catholic, that it is exceedingly difficult to put it 



THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT. 241 

out or shake it. And although it sometimes happens t'aat a 
Oathohc; from reading bad books, or frequenting the society 
of those who blaspheme his religion, or from becoming ac- 
quainted suddenly with some of the difficulties which science 
seems to present to faith, and not knowing the answer to 
them, or from the petty pride of seeming wiser than his 
neighbors, and making objections w^iich unlearned Catholics 
cannot answer, may use the language of a sceptic; yet such 
cases are very rare, and the scepticism is not very deep. A 
little guidance from one who knows better, and a little hu- 
mility on the part of such an objector, will set all right. 
But there is a kind of infidelity not so easily cured, and far 
more common among Catholics — a practical infidelity, an in- 
sensibility and indifference to the truths of faith. The truths 
of faith — I mean, heaven and hell, God and the soul — are 
not seen by the eye — it requires reflection to realize them ; 
but the world, and the objects which it presents, are visible 
and tangible. The former are lost sight of, while the l^ttter 
absorb all our thoughts. The body clamors ^<>r necessities 
and pleasures, and the soul, and things of eternity, are 
simply forgotten. It is almost the same to many men as if 
there were no God, no eternity, no heaven, or po hell. 
Eeally, one hardly sees in what the lives yi aictny Cainolics 
would differ from what they are now if theru were no God, 
no heaven or hell. I do not mean to say that they have no 
faith at all, for even the heathens have some faith ; or that 
they never think of God, for then they would be brutes ; but 
that these things have no real hold on their minds or influ- 
ence over their hearts. They never reflect. They stay away 
from the sacraments. * They do not listen to sermons. They 
liave no correct idea at all of the advantage they enjoy in 
being Catholics ; in a word, they break the commandments 
of God on the slightest temptation, are children of this world 
and immersed in its cares and enjoyments. Now, one of 
tiiese men meets with a sudden death. He goes out in the 
1} 



242 THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT. 

mornmg — perhaps lie is a meclianic — and he falls from a 
height. He is taken up and put in a litter hastily made, and 
carried home. It is apparent that life is ebbing fast. In a 
few minutes he becomes speechless. He has lost his sight. 
Ah ! does he breathe at all ? It is hard to say. The doctor 
comes in great haste. He feels his pulse, looks at him, and 
says, ''It is all over. He has received an injury in a vital 
part. He is dead." Yes, he is dead. This morning he was 
alive and well, he was making his plans, he was talking of 
the weather — now he is dead. All his old thoughts and ex- 
perience are all rolled back by a new set of things that are 
forcing themselves on his vision. He* is dead. He died sud- 
denly ; but not without warning. Others have died in his 
home before— he is not young. He has seen wife and chil- 
dren die. It made him weep for a while ; but he forgot it, 
and now his turn is come — he is dead. I will not stop to 
notice the grief of the friends he leaves behind. ISTo ; I will 
follow his soul, as it enters eternity. The voice of his friends 
dies on his ear — he begins to hear other voices. As he ceases 
to see the people in his room he begins to see other objects. 
Who is that, that is standing at the foot of his bed ? A 
neighbor was standing there but just now ; but this is another 
form, a form beautiful, indeed, but majestic and terrible. 
JSTo ; it is not any one he has ever seen before, and yet, he 
ought to know that face. He has seen it before ; it is the 
face his mother looked on as she was dvino; — the face 
he had often seen in Catholic churches. Yes, it is Jesus 
Christ. He knows it ; it is the same, and yet, how different ! 
When he saw that face in pictures, it Avas crowned with 
thorns ; now it is crowned witli a diadem of matchless glory. 
When he saw that form in the cliurch, it was naked, and 
Iianghig on the Cross ; now it is clothed witli garments of re- 
ixal maixnificence. Yes, it is Jesus Christ ! and He is lookiuii 
upon him with eyes of lire. He turns to escape those eyep, 
and he sees thei'e are other figures in the scene, Tliere are 



THE PARtlGULAR JUDGMENT. 243 

two fio^ures — one at the ria:lit hand, and one at the left. "Who 
are they ? He ought to know them, for they know more of 
him than any one else — they have been his companions for 
life. One is very beautiful — a being with golden locks and 
cloud-like wings — that is his angel guardian ; he looks sad 
now, for lie has nothing good to say. And the other is the 
black and hideous demon of hell, that crouches at his side, 
full of hate and malice, and triumph, too, for he has dogged 
the steps of this poor sinner from youth to age, and now the 
time has come for him to seize his prey. And now, as the sin- 
ner looks from one to another, the meaning of it all breaks 
upon him. Conviction flashes upon his mind. He may not 
have been an infidel before ; but putting his past feelings by 
the side of his present experience, it seems almost as if he 
had been. Did it ever happen to you to be talking quite 
unconcernedly, and all at once to find that others were list- 
ening, before whom for worlds you would not have used such 
unreserve. Well, to compare small things with great, some- 
thing like this will be the feeling of the sinner when the cur- 
tain of time draws up, and shows him the realities of eternity. 
The whole tide of his past thoughts nnd feelings will be ar- 
rested, and, with a great check, rolled back before the new set 
of experiences and sights that rush in on him. Oh !^ he will 
say, what is this that I see and hear ? Has Jesus Christ al- 
ways been so near me ? Have my guardian angel and the 
demon that has tempted me been always in this very rocra ? 
Ah, yes! it is even so. 1 have been living in a dream all 
my life, and pursuing shadows. It is true, as I learned in 
the catechism, and as the Church taught me, I was not made 
for the world or for sin, but for God. I had a soul, and the 
end of my being was to love and serve my Maker. He has 
been watching me all my days, and I have thought little of 
Him. I heard of judgment, but I did not give heed to it, 
or I placed it far off in the future ; but now it is here at the 
door. There is my Saviour, there my angel guardian, ther© 



244 THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT. 

the demon. Once I heard of these things, now I see them 
witli my eyes. Yes, it is all true. The world did not seem 
to believe it, the world forgot it ; but the world was wrong. 
The poor and the simple were right, after all, and the wise 
ones taken in their own craftiness. Yes, Christianity is true, 
Catholicity is true; I cannot doubt it, if I would, for there it 
Btares me in the face ! O, overwhelming conviction ! 

You have heard of the answer of a self-denying old monk 
to a wild, licentious youth, who reproached him with his folly 
in living so severe a life for the sake of a hereafter he had 
never seen. '^ Father," said the youth, "how much wiser I 
am than you, if there be no hereafter !" " Yes, my son," re- 
plied the aged man, •' but how much more foolish, if there 
be !" O fearful discovery, to come on one for the first 
time, with a strong and deep impression, at the very thresh- 
old of eternity ! O miserable man ! why did you not think 
of these things before ? Why did you rush into the presence 
of your Maker without forethought? Now, for the first 
time, to think seriously, when there is no longer freedom in 
thought, or merit in faith. O, the folly and the misery ! 

But I must pass on, for these are but the beginning of sor- 
rows. The conviction, then, that the soul acquires in the first 
moment of her experience in tlie other world is accompanied 
l^y a mortal terror. Why is Jesus Christ there ? Why are 
the angel and the demon there ? Ah ! he knows well. It is 
to try him. Yes, be is to be tried, and to be tried by an un- 
erring judge — by Jesus Christ. To be tried; and that is 
something he is not used to. He never tried himself. He 
never examined his conscience. He was afraid to do it, and 
if sometimes the thought of a hereafter intruded itself into 
his mind, he banished it, and thought he would escape some- 
how or other. Perhaps he built on the very name of Cath- 
olic, or on the sacraments, as if they possessed a magical 
power, and would change him at once, in the hour of death, 
from a sinner to a saint Ferhaps lie thouglit that God 



THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT. 245 

would strike a balance between tbe good and the evil that 
was in liim, and pardon him for being as wicked as he was 
because he was no worse. Perhaps he built simply on the 
mercy of God. So far as he thought at all, he built his 
hopes on some such foundation as this. He did not know 
how, but he thought somehow he would get off. It is the 
old story. Almighty God said to Eve : " In the day thou 
eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." And Eve said to the 
serpent : " We may not eat it, lest we die." And the ser- 
pent said : " Te shall not surely die." So it is ; man's self- 
love reasons, and the devil denies. But the time has come 
when the deceits of sin and the devil are discovered. The 
sinner is to be tried. He stands as a culprit to be judged. 
And by what law is he to be tried? By the ten command- 
ments, of which he has heard so often, and which he has 
neglected so completely. God says : " Thou shalt not break 
my commandments, and in the day thou breakest them thou 
shalt surely die." God had said : " Thou shalt not commit 
adultery." He had committed it. God had said: "Thou 
shalt not steal ;" and he had stolen. God had said: ''Thou 
shalt keep holy the Sabbath day." He had broken the Sun- 
day and neglected the Sunday's Mass. God had said: 
" Thou shalt do no murder ;" and he had murdered his own 
soul by drunkenness. He had grown bold in sin, and 
thought that God had hidden away his face, and would 
never see it. And now he is brought to trial. There is no 
hope that his transgressions against the commandments can 
be hidden. The demon is there as his accuser. 

" I claim this soul as mine. Look at it ; see if it does not 
belong to me ? Does it not look like me ? Wilt thou take 
a soul like that and place it in thy paradise ?" At these 
words the sinner looks down upon himself and sees his own 
soul. He has never seen it before. Oh, what a sight ! As 
a man is horror-struck the first time he sees his blotched and 
bloated face after an attack of small-pox, so is he horror- 



246 THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT. 

struck at the sight of his own soul. Oh, how horribly ugly 
and defiled it is! What are those stains upon his soul? 
Ah! they are the stains of sin. Each one has left its sepa- 
rate mark ; and to look at that soul you might see its history. 
There is the gangrene of lust, and the spot of anger, and the 
tumor of pride, and the scale of avarice. Ah ! how hid- 
eous it is, and how horrible to think how it is changed, for it 
was once like that beautiful angel that stands by its side, all 
radiant with light and beauty. It has no reseniblauce now. 
The words of the demon are true ; it resembles him. But 
the accuser goes on : "I claim this "body as mine.'' lie 
turns to the body, as it lies in the bed : " I claim those eyes 
as mine, by the title of all the lascivious looks they have 
given. I claim those hands as mine, by the title of all the 
robberies and acts of violence they have committed. I claim 
those feet as mine, because they were swift to carry him to 
the place of forbidden pleasures, and slow to go to the house 
of God. I claim these ears as mine, by the title of all the 
detraction they have drunk in so greedily. I claim this 
mouth as mine, by the title of all the blatphemies and impu- 
rities it has uttered. See," says he, ^^ this body is mine ; it 
bears my mark ;" and as he speaks he points to a scar in the 
forehead, the remnant of a wound received in a drunken 
affray in a house of ill-fame. Surely he has said enough ; 
but he is not accustomed to be believed. He has now spoken 
the tr\ith indeed, because truth serves his purpose better 
than falsehood w^ould have done. But he knows he is a liar, 
and therefore needs confirmation ; so he goes on : " I have 
witnesses, if you want them. Shall I bring them up?" 
Jesus Christ gives his permission. And now see, at his 
word, a band of lost spirits come up from hell. Oh ! how 
pale and haggard they look, and how they glare on the sin- 
ner as they fix on liim a look of recognition. Who is that 
who B].'Cal:s to liim first, and holds out her long withered 
fingers to him, and says, >vith a liorrkl laugli : "1 think you 



THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT. 247 

know ine." Oh! that is the poor girl he sec need. She 
Bays : " I followed thee to ruin ; it is fitting thou shouldst 
follow me to hell." But there is another woman. Who is 
that i That is his poor wife ; his poor wife, who had to put 
up with all the cruelties and violence he practised in his 
beastly drunkenness ; who was led by want to steal, and by 
despair to drunkenness. She looks upon him with a blood 
shot eye. " My husband/' she says : " thou wert my tor 
mentor in time ; I will be thy tomentor in eternity." But who 
are those young people, that young man and young woman ? 
Oh, they are his eldest children, his boy and girl, of whom 
he took no care ; who, finding nothing but a hell at home, 
went out — the one to the tavern and the gaming-room, 
the other to the ball and the dance and the lonely place of 
assignation, and, after a short career of dissipation, were both 
cut ofi* in their sin. They meet him, and now they say : 
*' Father, thou didst pave the way of perdition for us, and now 
we will cling to thee, and drag thee deeper, who art at once the 
author of our life and of our destruction." Ah ! lias not the 
demon made out his case ? Can there be hope for one like 
that? Are you not ready to condemn him yourselves to hell ? 
But wait — perhaps he did good penance. And the Judge, 
turning to the angel guardian says : " My good and faithful 
servant, what has thou to say in behalf of this soul, which 
was committed to thy especial care?" The angel looks down 
upon the ground and sighs, and answers, " Most just and 
holy Sovereign, alas ! I have nothing to say that can set 
aside the accusation Thou hast heard. All I can do is to vin- 
dicate Thy justice and my fidelity. I have given to the man 
all the graces Thou hast prepared for him. He was a Cath- 
olic, lie had the sacraments. He had warnings. He had 
faith. He had many special graces. He had the mission ; 
and I myself often spoke to him in his heart, calling him 
to do penance, but he never did do penance. Fe was 
careless in attendance at Mass, He was seldom at the 



248 THE PAKTICULAR JUDGMENT. 

confessional, and wlien lie did come he made liis confer 
sion without a sincere purpose of amendment, and soon re- 
lapsed into his former sins, and at last he died without 
penance. Therefore there is nothing left for me but to 
resign my charge and to return the crown " — here the angel 
takes up a beautiful crown — " to return the crown which Thou 
hadst made for him, that Thou mayst place it on another 
brow." " Dost Thou not hear," the demon once more cries out 
impatiently — '^ Dost thou not hear what the angel says ? Yes, 
this man is mine, has always been mine. I did not create 
him, and yet he always served me. Thou didst create him, and 
yet he has refused to obey Thee. I never died for him, yet 
he has been my willing slave. Thou didst die for him, and yet 
he has blasphemed Thy name, broken Thy laws and despised 
Thy promises. Thou didst allure him by kindness, but wert 
not able to win his affection. I led him to hell, and found him 
willing to follow. G Jesus, thou Son of the living God, if 
Thou dost not give me this soul, there is neither truth in 
Thy word nor justice in Thy awards." The demon speaks 
boldly, but Jesus Christ suffers him to speak so, because he 
he speaks truly; and oh, with what terror does the poor 
sinner hear that truth ! But terror is not the only feeling 
that is to fill his heart. Despair is to come in, to make his 
misery complete. He begins to cry for mercy. " G God, 
mercy ! have mercy, G Jesus Christ ! Do not let mo perish 
whom Thou hast redeemed. I have had the faith ; oh, do not 
let me come to perdition ! Gnly one quarter of an hour to do 
penance !" Can Jesus Christ resist such an appeal ? No, my 
brethren, if there were a real disposition to do penance in the 
heart. I will undertake to say that if the devils of hell were 
willing to do penance, God would forgive them. But there 
is no penance in the other world. There is only the desire 
to escape punishment, not the desire to escape sin ; and being 
out of the order of the present providence of God, which 
leaves the will free, there is no real conversion there. There* 



THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT. 249 

fore Jesus Christ answers : " wicked man, tliy deeds con- 
demri tliee. Thou callest for mercy, but it is too late. The 
time for mercy is over ! Mercy ! thou hast shown no 
mercy to thyself, to thy wife or children. Mercy ! I have 
shown thee mercy all the days of thy life. I sent thee my 
preachers, and thou didst refuse to listen. There is no mercy 
now but justice — and therefore I pronounce the everlasting 
sentence. I consign this man^s soul to hell, and his body to 
the resurrection of damnation." Did you hear that howl ? 
That was the deviPs howl of triumph. Jesus Christ is gone. 
The angel is gone ; and the devil goes to the body. They 
have not done washing it. He begins to wash too. What is 
he doing. He is washing the forehead ; for on that forehead, 
the mark of Christ, the holy cross, was placed in baptism, 
and he is washing it out, and with a brand from hell he places 
there his own signet — the signet of perdition. And now the 
soul, feeling the full extent of her misery, cries out : " I am 
damned. I am damned ! no hope more ; not even Purga- 
tory. Oh, I never thought it would come to this ; I did but 
do as the others. I was no worse than my companions, and 
now I am lost. I that was a Catholic, I that had always a 
good name, and was liked by my friends. And oh, are the 
judgments of God so strict ? What will become of my com- 
panions whom I left on the earth, wild and reckless like my 
self? Will they too follow me to this place of torment ! Oh, 
why did not the priest speak of this ? Alas ! he did, but I 
would not hear. Alas, alas, it is too late now ! Shall I 
never see Jesus Christ again ? Must I forever despair ?" And 
a voice rises from the walls of eternitv with ten thousand re- 
verberations : "Despair." Can there be any thing more dread- 
ful still ? Yes, the sinner's cup has one more ingredient of 
bitterness — remorse. You know what a comfort it is to be 
able to say, " It was not my fault, I did what I could." 
But the sinner will not have that comfort. On the contrary, 
he will say, " I might have been saved. It is all true which 



250 THE PARTICULAR JUDGMENT. 

the angol said. I was a Catliolic, and had the means of sal- 
vation. I might have been saved, saved easily, more easily 
than I was lost. I was never happy ; sin never made me 
happy. I sinned, and gained for myself misery even in the 
other world. Fool that I was, I might have done penance, and 
been happier after it, in time and in eternity. How little 
God asked of me! I had the mission, if I had but made it 
well. Oh, what trouble I took to be damned, and how little 
was required of me to be saved ! Yesterday, God was ready ; 
ti)0 sacraments were at hand, the church door open, the 
priest was awaiting me ; but now all is closed. Oh, if I had 
them now !" But his comxplaints are silenced. An iron grasp 
is on his throat. The demon has his black hand on his throat 
and chokes him ; then he puts his horrid arms around him, 
and hugs him as the anaconda hugs her victims. He carries 
him swiftly through the air : down, down they go — until at 
last they reach the gates of hell. They creak upon their 
hinges, they open, the demon enters with his prey, and casts 
it on the bed of iiames prepared for it. Then a yell is heard 
throuo-hout those dismal reo:ions : '' One more Catholic voca- 
tion thrown away, one more soul lost, one more devil in hell." 
Come, let us go back to that room where the corpse is laid 
out. They have just finished preparing it for the grave, and 
all that we have described has been taking place in that very 
room too, and they have not known it. They have smoothed 
the body and laid a white cloth over it; and. they say, how 
natural it looks^ It wears the smile they remember it used 
to wear in youth, and that poor soul they are talking of is 
damned. Jesus Christ has been there, and adjudged it to 
hell. And this is going on every day. Wherever death takes 
a man, there judgment meets him. Jesus Christ meets men 
in all kinds of places. You know how death met Baltassar. 
He was a drunkard, an adulterer, a sacrilegious robber; and 
one night, when he was drunk, and held a grand feast, sur- 
rcunded by his concubines, and with the vessels of God's 



THE PARTICULAR JUDGMEIsT. 251 

house on liis table, a hand appeared on the wall and wrote 
this sentence : " Mene, Mene, Thecel, Phares;" and that night 
he died. Yes ! in the midst of their sin ; in the place where 
they go, Jesus Christ meets the soul, and condemns it to hell. 
He meets it in the grogshop, where wild companions are gath- 
ered together, and one of them falls to the ground, under the 
blow of a companion, and dies. There upon that spot, with 
those bad companions standing around, with the sound of 
blasphemy in his ear, Jesus Christ, unseen, meets that soul 
and condemns it to hell. Another is shot in the street, on 
his way to keep an assignation, and then and there, in the 
jitreet, Jesus Christ meets him and condemns him to hell. 
One dies in the low hovel, where squalid vice and misery 
have done all they could to brutalise the inmates, and then 
and there Jesus Christ, in that hovel, meets the soul and con- 
demns it to hell. Another dies in a bed covered with silken 
tapestry, and as he dies he sees the face of Jesus Christ look- 
ing in through the silken curtains to pronounce the sentence 
against him, who had made a god of this world. Another 
dies in prison, and there in that cell where human justice 
placed him, divine justice meets him, and in that prison 
Jesus Christ meets him and condemns him to hell. Tes, 
wherever death meets you, O sinner, there Jesus Christ will 
meet you, and there he will condemn you. It may be to- 
morrow. It may be in the very act of the commission of sin. 
It may be without any opportunity of preparation, you will 
stand before an inflexible and unerring Judge." Oh, then, do 
not delay nov^^ to propitiate Him while you can. In that 
tribunal after death, there is no mercy for the sinner ; but 
there is another tribunal, which He has established, where 
there is mercy — the tribunal of penance. There the accuser 
is not the demon, but the sinner himself; and he is not only 
his own accuser, but his own witness against himself. There 
the angel guardian waits with joy, not with sorrow. There 
Jesns Christ is present, but not m wrath. There the sentence 



252 HEAVEN. 

is, " I absolve tliee from thy sin," not " I condemn thee for 
thy sin." Oh, then, appeal from one tribunal to the other. 
Appeal from Jesus Christ to Jesus Christ. Appeal from Je- 
sus Christ at the day of judgment to Jesus Christ in the con- 
fessional. And if thou wouldst not be condemned by Him 
when thou seest Him after death, be sure thou gettest a fa- 
vorable sentence from Him now in the Sacrament of Pen- 
ance. " Ilahe an agreement with thy adversary quicldy^ 
whilst thou art in the way with him : lest jperhaps the adver- 
sary deliver thee to the jttdge^ and the judge deliver thee to 
the officer^ and thou he cast into jpri'son. Amen. I say to 
thee^ thou shalt not go out from thence till thou fay the last 
farthingT'^ 



SEEMON IV. 

HBAYEN. 

(mission seemon.) 

•* Rejoice and be exceeding glad, because your reward is very great in hea- 
ven." — St. Matt. v. 12. 

Some of you may remember the joy with which, after a 
Bea voyage, you arrived at home. The voyage had been 
very long and wearisome. You had suffered, pei'haps had 
been in danger. At last you heard the sailors cry " Land ;" 
and after a while, your less practised eye began to discern the 
blue hills of your native country. Oh, how that sight re- 
vived you ! How your sufferings and dangers were all for- 
gotten in the thought of the welcome that awaited you at 
borne ! Well, life is a voyage on the ocean of time; cften & 

* St. Matt. V. 26. 



HEAVEN. 253 

tempestuous^ always a dangerous voyage ; and in order to 
aniiQate our courage, to cheer and console us, God has al- 
lowed us from time to time to catch a glimpse by faith of our 
distant home of heaven. Let us lift up our thoughts now to 
that happy land, the land that is very far off, the land that 
is wide and quiet ; the celestial paradise, the home of the 
blessed, the city of God. I know that we cannot gain any 
sufficient idea of it. I know that eye hath not seen its 
beauty, ear hath not heard the story of it, neither hath the 
heart of man conceived its image ; but we must do as men do 
with some costly jewel : turn it first on one side, then on 
another, to catch its brilliancy ; and if at the last we fall 
down, blinded and dazzled by the splendors which meet us, 
we shall in this way at least conceive something of the great- 
ness of those things which God has provided for those v/ho 
love Him. 

The Holy Scripture represents the pleasures of heaven in 
three difierent lights : first, as Eest ; second, as Joy ; third, 
as Glory. Let us, then, meditate upon them for a while, 
under each one of these three aspects. 

First, then, heaven is a place of rest, by which I under- 
stand tlie absence of all those things which disturb us here. 
True, there is happiness even in this life, but how unsatisfac 
tory, how fleeting ! Here we are never far off from wretched- 
ness, and never long without trouble. You go into a great 
city : how rich and gay every thing looks ; what crowds of 
well-dressed people pass you ! Ah ! in the next street there 
is the dismal hovel where poverty hides its head, and the chil- 
dren cry for bread, and there is no one to break it to them. 
You are strong and healthy, and it is a strange, fierce joy for 
you on a cold day to struggle with the buffetings of the win- 
try blast ; but see, the rude wind that kindles a glow on your 
cheek steals away the blpom from yonder sick man, whose 
feeble step and sharpened features tell of sufiering and 
diisease. You have a happy family, and when you go home 



254 HE A YEN. 

your children clamber up on your knees, and your wife tiic eta 
you witli a smile of affection. Alas ! next door, tlie widow 
weeps the night long, and there is none to comfort her, for 
the young man, the only son of his mother, has been carried 
to Ills long home. And as if this were not enough, as if sick- 
ness and poverty and death did not cause misery enough in 
the world, men's passions, hate and. envy^ lust, avarice, and 
pride, unite to make many a moment wretched that might 
else have been happj^ But in heaven these things shall be 
no more. In heaven there shall be complete and perfect 
rest* The poor man will no more be forced to toil hardly 
and anxiously to put bread in his children's mouths — to rise 
up early, and late take rest ; for there they shall not hunger 
nor thirst any more. The sick man then shall leap as a 
hart ; he shall run and not be weary ; he shall walk and not 
faint. The widow's tears shall be dried, for husband and son 
shall be again restored to her. Oh, what a day shall that 
be, when dear friends sliall meet together, never to part 
again, and God shall wipe all tears from their eyes, and sor- 
row and sighing shall flee away ; when the bodies of the 
saints, glorious and immortal, no longer subject to decay or 
fatigue or death, clothed in light, shall enter the gates of -the 
celestial -city, and shall have a right to the tree of life ! And 
there shall be no sin there, no gust of passion, no reproach of 
conscience, no sting of temptation. In this life, says St. 
Augustine, we have the liberty of being able not to sin, but 
in heaven we shall have the hii!;her libertv of not beins; able 
to sin. Brother shall not rise up against brother, neither 
shall there be war any more, for the former things are passed 
awav. There shall be no strife or hatred or envv ; no wronii: 
or oppression; no unkindness or coldness; no falsehood or 
insincerity ; but within a perfect peace, and without an un- 
alterable friendship between all the inhabitants of this haj)py 
land, each rejoicing in the other's happiness and glory. And 
Iherc is no end to these joys of heaven. Here our best pleas- 



HEAVEN. 255 

ores are alloyed by their traiisitoriness; but there, there is no 
fear for the future. 'No wave disturbs the deep, clear sea of 
crystal that lies before the throne of God. The angel has 
sworn that time shall be no longer, and the great day of eter- 
nity has begun. O heavenly Jerusalem ! O city of God ! 
which has no need of sun or moon to enlighten it, for there 
is no night there ! welcome haven of rest to the poor exiles 
of earth ! Blessed are they that shall enter thy gates of 
pearl and tread thy streets of gold, for thou art the perfection 
of beauty and the joy of the w^hole earth. In thy secure re- 
cesses the wricked cease from troubling and the w^eary are at 
rest. " Blessed are they that die in the Lord, for they rest 
from their labors. They shall not hurt or destroy in all 
my holy mountain, saith the Lord. My people shall be all 
just ; they shall inherit the land forever, the branch of my 
planting, the work of my hands, to glorify me." 

But though it is easier to describe heaven as a place of 
rest, that is not the whole description of it. Heaven is also 
a place of joy, and of joy the most complete, the most pure, 
the most satisfying that the human heart can possess. Joy 
in seeing and loving God, or, as it is called, in the Beatific 
Vision. This it is in which consists essentially the Christian 
idea of heaven. I say the Christian idea, for our faith 
teaches us to look forward to a happiness very difierent from 
what we could have expected by nature. Of com^se natural 
reason teaches us to look forward to a future life, but it 
promises no other knowledge of God but such as is possible 
to our own natural powers when fully developed. But 
Christianity promises us a knowledge of God to which our 
natural powers, however enlarged, could never aspire. It 
teaches us that we shall see Him as He is- -not only think 
about Him and commune with Him and adore Him, but 
actually look upon His unveiled Divinity, gaze upon Him 
face to face. It is not of our Lord's glorified humanity that 
I speak. That, too, we shall see, and that will be a sight of 



256 HEAVEN. 

unspeakable beauty and joy ; but we shall see more : we shall 
look upon and into the Divine Essence. Now to our natural 
powers this is impossible. A blind man can know a great 
deal about the sun. He may hear it desc^ribed, he may reason 
about it, he may feel its effects, but he cannot lift up his eyes 
to heaven and see it. So, naturally speaking, we have not 
the faculty whereby to see God. "JSTo inan hath seen God 
at any time^'^ says St. John. " Whom no man hath seen^ or 
can see^ who inhahiteth the light inaccessible ^^'^ says St. Paul.*^ 
Clearly there must be some great change in us, something 
o;iven to us that does not belonoj to us as men, in order to 
enable us to see God, and the Holy Scripture tells us what 
that change shall be : " We shall he like to Ilim^fovwe shall 
see Him as He is^'^ says St. John.f We ourselves shall be- 
come divine and godlike. The human intellect shall be 
marvellously strengthened by a gift which the Church calls 
the light of glory, which shall enable us to look upon God 
and live. We are told in Scripture that God walked in the 
garden of Eden and talked with Adam and Eve in the cool 
of the day. This high companionship was broken by the 
fall. Man w^as reduced to the rank that essentially belonged 
to him, and was deprived of that which had been accorded 
to him of grace. But by baptism he acquires once more a 
right to that familiar intercourse with God, and in heaven 
he enters upon its enjoyment. For this reason heaven is 
called our fatherland. It is our lost inheritance recovered. 
There we ourselves shall be the sons of God, and God m ill 
be our Father. Think what is the relation of an affection- 
ate son to a gocd and wise father. What submission with 
equalit}^ — what complete sympathy and community of inter- 
est — what intimate communication of thought and feeling ! 
So, O Christian soul ! shall it be between you and God. 
God will be your God, and you will be His child. Thou 

♦ St. John i. 18 ; I. Tim. yi. IG. f I. Ep. St. John 'il 2, 



HEAVEJiT. 257 

slialt dwell in His home, and all that He hath shall he thine* 
^'All things are yours^ the world^ or life^ Or death^ or things 
present^ or things to come / for all are yours^ and you are 
Chrisfs^ and Christ is GodhP ^ Yes, God himself shall be 
yours. Yon shall look around you and see His towering 
altitudes, and count them as your own* You shall look deep 
down into the depths of His wisdom and be wise as God is. 
You shall find yourself upborne by His power and good- 
ness, enveloped by His glory, and adorned with His beauty. 
Oh ! my brethren, is not this joy ? Tell me, tell me, young 
men, tell me, children, tell me truly, one and all, what have 
been the happiest moments of your life ? Was it the mo- 
ments you have spent in sin ? Was it the hour of some 
earthly success or triumph ? Or was it not rather at some 
hour when God was near to you, and you felt the music of 
His voice and the perfume of His breath — some time when 
you were praying, or when you had made a good confession 
or communion, or when you were listening to a sermon ? 1 
know it was. 1 know there are times when every man has 
felt the words of the Psalmist : " What have lin heaven? 
and hesides Thee what do I desire ujpon earth ? Thou art 
the God. of my heart, and the God that is my portion for- 
ever.^^f What are all the attainments of learned men to 
Him who is all- wise ? What are all the conceptions of 
genius to Him who is all-beautiful, or the moral excellencies 
of good men to Him who is all-holy ? Yes, the thought of 
God is the source of the purest and highest pleasure on 
earth. That thought has ravished the saints with ecstasy, 
and made the martyrs laugh at their torments. And if 
merely to think about God in this life can make us so happy, 
what mast it be to see Him in the life to come ? To know 
God and to love Him, to know Him as we are known by 
Him, to love Him with our whole souls, to possess Him 

♦1 Cor. iu. 23, f Ps, Ixxrii. 26. 



258 HEAVEN. 

OTthout the fear of losing Iliin, to take part iu His counsels, 
to enter into His will, and to sliare in His blessedness — this 
is a joy, perfect and supreme; and this is tlie joy of 
heaven. This is the joy offered to you. This is all-satisfy- 
ing. The soul can desire nothing more. This is permanent, 
for heaven is eternal. This is always new, for God is riches 
and beauty inexhaustible and infinite. Oh, my brethren, 
do not envy those who were near our Lord's person when 
He was upon earth. I know it is natural to do so. I know 
it is natural to say, " If I could but have seen His face, or 
heard the sound of His voice ;" but no ! yours is a still 
happier lot. Do not envy Magdalene, wlio kissed His feet,, 
nor St. John, on whose breast He leaned, nor the Blessed 
Virgin, who bore Him in her arms. Is it not permitted to 
the poorest and the weakest of you to see Him, not in His 
humility, but in His glory — to converse with Him and dwell 
with Him in the land of the living ? Oh ! blessed are they 
that dwell in Thy house ! The world passeth away, and the 
lust thereof, but he that doeth the will of God abideth for- 
ever. Blessed are they that hear the Word of God and do 
it ! Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God ! 

One would have thought that this was enough. To be 
free from all the trials and sufferings of this present life, and 
to enjoy the fullest happiness a human soul is capable of — ^^one 
would think that were heaven enough, and that no more 
could be added. But the bounty of God has added another 
element to the happiness of heaven. Heaven is a place of 
glory — not of rest only, but of glory also. " Glory, honor 
and peace," says the apostle, " to every man that doeth well." 
Heaven is the place of God's glory, and it is also the place 
of the glory of the saints. Even here the good are honored 
— the really good. True, for a while they may be despised 
and persecuted, but, in the long run, nothing is honored so 
much as virtue. During the lifetime of Nero and St. Paul, 
Nero was a powerful emperor, praised and flattered by hia 



fiEAVEN. 259 

courtiers, and St. Paul a friendless and despised prisoner; 
now, ISTero is abliorred as tlie wicked tyrant, and St. Paul 
honored by all men as tlie saint and hero. But this is not 
enough. In heaven the honor of the saints Avill be magnifi- 
cent. God himself will honor them. This is one reason for 
the last judgment, that God may publicly give honor to the 
good. ^' Whosoever shall glorify mie^ him vnll I glorify^^ 
tays the Almighty ; ^ and they who are saved will be admitted 
t.o heaven with respect and solemnity, as those whom the 
King delights to honor. This is represented to us in the 
description of the last judgment : ^' Then shall He turn to 
♦:hem on the right hand and say : ^ Come, ye blessed of my 
Father, possess the kingdom prepared for you from the 
foundation of the world.' " See how He praises them. See 
how He honors them and makes kings out of them. They 
are astonished : it seems too much. Thev know not how 
they have deserved it. But He insists upon it as their right. 
He repeats the good actions they have done. ^'I was 
hungry and ye gave me meat, I was thirsty and ye gave me 
to drink. I was naked and ye clothed me." Do you hear 
this, my brethren ? So will it be with you when you stand 
before God to be judged. He will hold in His hand a beau- 
tiful diadem of gold, and he will say : '^ This is for thee." 
And ihou shalt be amazed and shalt say : ^^ No, Lord, this 
is not for me. I am nothing but a laboring man. I am but 
a poor boy. I am only a servant-girl. I am not the child 
of the rich and great. No one ever made way for me in the 
street, or rose up when I came into their company." But 
Christ shall say : '' Nay ! a prince thou art, for thou hast 
done the deeds of a prince." Then He will begin to men- 
tion them one by one — your kindness to your old mother and 
father — your humble confession that it was so difficult to make, 
and which you made so well — the time you overcame that 

* 1 Xi. ii. 30. 



260 HEAVEN. 

great temptation, and resolved, once for all, to be virtuous — ■ 
the occasion of sin you renouncbd — the prayers you said in 
humility and sincerity — the sacrifices you made for your 
faith — the true faith you kept with your husband or wife — 
the patience j^ou practised in pain or vexation. Then He 
will show you your throne in heaven, so bright you will 
think it an apostle's, or the Blessed Virgin Mary's, or that it 
belongs to God himself; and then the tears of joy and sur- 
prise w^ill drop from your eyes, and your heart will be nigh 
bursting with confusion ; but He will smile upon you, and 
take you by the hand, and say : " Yes, thou hast been taith- 
ful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many 
things." Then He will give thee a certain jurisdiction, a 
certain power of intercession ; make thee an assessor in His 
high court of heaven, and make thee to sit on a throne with 
Him, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And others shall 
honor thee. The saints shall honor thee. The Blessed Vir- 
gin shall honor thee. Now thou honorest her, so much at a 
distance from thee, and callest her Lady ; but then it shall 
be as it was w^hen St. John and the Blessed Virgin dwelt 
together in one home. Thou shalt still honor her as the 
Mother of Jesus, and she shall honor thee as His disciple. 
St. Peter and St. John and St. James and St. Andrew shall 
honor thee. Now thou makest thy litanies to them ; but then 
it will be as it was when Peter and Thomas and Nathanael 
and the sons of Zebedee w^ere together, and Jesus carrie in 
the midst and dined with them. The saints shall be one 
family with thee. They wdll walk with thee, and sit with 
thee, and call thee by name, and tell thee the secrets of 
Paradise. And the angels shall honor thee. Now thou ad- 
dressest thy angel guardian on bended knee ; but then he will 
say to thee: "See thou do it not; I am thy fellow-servant, 
and of thy brethren, who have the testimony of Jesus." 
And the Church on earth shall praise thee. As long as time 
bhall last, she shall make mention of thee as one of those who 



HEAVEV. 261 

« 
rejoice witli Christ in His glorious kingdom, and, clothed 
in white, follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth. Yes, 
and the wicked and the devils shall honor thee. Now they 
may affect to despise you — now they may persecute you 
and trouble you ; but then they will be forced to do you 
honor, and, groaning within themselves for anguish of spirit, 
and amazed at the suddenness of your unexpected salvation, 
shall say : " These are theyiohom we had sometime in derision^ 
and for a parable of reproach. We fools esteemed their life 
'm^adness and their end without honor. Behold how they are 
nurribered among the children of God^ and their lot is among 
the saints.^^ ^ 

Such, my brethren, are the joys of heaven, or, rather, sucb is 
the faintest and poorest idea of the joys of heaven. Men seek 
for wealth as the means of defending themselves from the ills 
of life, but there is perfect rest only in heaven. Men seek 
for pleasure, but earthly joys are short and unsatisfactory ; 
the pleasures at God's right hand are for ever sure. Men 
seek for honor, but the real honor comes from God alone. 
And these are within the reach of each one of you. When 
Father Thomas of Jesus, was dying in captivity, his friends 
came around his bedside, and expressed their regret that he 
should die, away from his home, and their hope that the 
Ejng of Spain would even yet ransom him ; but the holy 
man replied : " I have a better country than Spain, and the 
ransom has long been paid. That country is heaven, that 
ransom is the blood of Christ." The Holy Church says : 
" When thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death, thou 
didst open the kingdom of heaven to all believers." Yes ^ 
by the blood of Christ, by the sacrament of baptism, the 
gates of heaven are opened before us. The path is straight 
and plain. If by sin we have strayed from it, by penance 
we have been recalled to it, and now there is nothing to do 

*Wisd.v. 3, 4, 6. 



262 HEAVEN. 

» 

but to advance and persevere, and heaven is onrs. Will yoii 
draw back, Christian ? AVill you, by mortal sin, throw away 
that immortal crown ? No drunkard or adulterer, nothing 
that is defiled, can enter there. There is only one road that 
leads to heaven — the road of Christian obedience. Will you 
renounce your birthright ? Will you, by sin, take the course 
that leads you away from your heavenly home ? " Oh !" I 
hear you say, " I will choose heaven." But, remember, 
heaven is to be won. '^Heaven," says St. Philip Neri, " is 
not for the slothful and cowardly." Strive then, henceforth, 
for the rewards that are at God's riglit hand. Strive to 
attain abnndant merits for eternity. Remember that he that 
soweth sparingly shall reap sparingly, and he that soweth 
plentifully shall reap plentifully. God is not unmindful of 
your works and labor that proceedeth from love. Things so 
small as not to be taken notice of, things that happen every 
day, add a new glory to our mansions in heaven. With this 
aim, then, let us henceforth work. " Oh, happy T," says St. 
Augustine, " and thrice happy, if, after the dissolution of the 
body, I shall merit to hear the songs that are sung in praise 
of the Eternal King, by the inhabitants of the celestial 
city !" Happy I, if I myself shall merit to sing those 
strains, and to stand before my Lord and King, and to see 
Him in His glory, as he promised ! " He that loveth me 
shall be loved by my Father, and I will love him, and will 
manifest myself to him." " How amiable are thy taber- 
nacles. Thou Lord of Hosts ! My soul hath a desire and 
a longing to enter into the courts of the Lord." Grant me 
this, O Lord. Give and withold what Thou wilt. I do not 
ask length of days. I do not ask f )r earthly honor and pros- 
perity. I do not ask to be free from care, or labor, or suffer- 
ing. But this I do ask, O Lord : when this life is over, shut 
not up my soul in hell, but let me look on Thy face in the 
land of the living. Make me so to pass through things 
temporal that I lose not the things eternal. Hail, Heavenly 



DUTY OF GROWING IN CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE. 263 

Queen! our life, our sweetneijs, and our hope! to Thee do 
we (uy, poor, exiled children of Eve. Oh, then, from Thy 
throne in heaven, lift upon us, who are struggling in this 
world, those merciful eyes of Thine ! and when this our 
exile is over, show us the blessed fruit of Thy womb, 
Jesus ! 

Note. — This was the last Sunday-Sermon which F. Baker preached, two 
weeks before he was seized with his last iUness. 



SEEMON V. 

THE DUTY OF GROAnNG IN CHRISTIAN ENOWLEDGB. 

(first SUNDAY IN ADVENT.) 

** The first man knew not wisdom jjerfectly, no more shall the last find her 
out. For her tJioughts are vaster than the sea, and her counsels deeper than the 
great ocean." — Eccles. xxiy. 38, 89. 

I Tumiv we Catholics, when we lay claim to the possession 
of the whole truth — the entire revelation imparted to the 
world from Christ through the apostles — sometimes forget how 
small a share of that truth each one of us possesses in par- 
ticular. It is the Church that the Holy Ghost leads into all 
truth, not individuals. Each Catholic, who is sufficiently in- 
structed, knows some truth ; he knows what is necessary to sal- 
vation ; but there are many things which he is totally ignorant 
of, many things concerning which his conceptions are inade- 
quate or distorted. Now if this be so, it cannot but be useful to 
remember it, and I will, therefore, this mc>rning, show j^ou how 
it must be so, and some of the consequences which flow from it. 

Each one's knowdedge of truth must be more or less partial 
and incomplete, because it varies with each one's capacity for 
receiviug truth. When God gave man reason^ He conferred 



264 PUTY OF GROWING IN CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE. 

311 him the faculty of receiving truth ; but the degree iu 
which this or that man is capable of receiving truth, depends 
apon the strength and cultivation of his particular reason. 
The eye is the organ of sight, but one man's eye is stronger 
and truer than another's. Slight variations of color or form, 
wholly indistinguishable by one man, are detected in a mo- 
ment by another. So, one man's reason is stronger than 
another's. What makes the difference, is, of course, in part 
the diversity in natural endowments, but it is not altogether 
due to this cause ; it is due in great measure also to cultiva- 
tion. Moral dispositions, too, have a great deal to do with it ; 
and in the case of Christian truth, the grace of God also 
exerts a special influence. The degrees in which these various 
elements are found in particular cases, are so different, that 
there is an almost infinite gradation in the measure in which 
men are capable of receiving truth. No two men can re- 
ceive it in exactly the same degree. In all this congregation, 
where we recite the same Creed and use the same prayers, 
there are, perhaps, no two of us who mean by them precisely 
the same thing. The intelligence of each one, his past his- 
tory, his moral dispositions, will determine how far the faith 
that is in him corresponds to the faith that is without him — 
the faith as it is in itself, the object of faith as it is in God. 
I can make what I mean plain to you by an illustration. 
Let us suppose a beautiful picture of the crucifixion, for 
instance, put up in a public gallery. Men of eveiy ki:id enter 
and pass before it. There comes a man who has never heard 
of Christ ; he is ignorant and uneducated. He looks up and 
sees the representation of extremest human agony, mingled 
with superhuman dignity and patience. Some ray enters his 
mind; he pauses, is startled then passes on. Now there 
comes another, who is an anatomist, and he is arrested by 
the skill with which the body is proportioned, and the play 
of the muscles and nerves is exhibited. Every line is a study 
to him, and he stops a good deal longer than the first. Then 



DUTY OF GROWING IN CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE. 265 

tLere comes an artist, and he sees iu the picture something 
greater even. He takes in the genius of the conception, the 
fitness of attitude and expression, the light and shade, the 
tints of color, the difficulties overcome by art ; and he comes 
and sits before it, day after day, for hours, absorbed in the 
study of its beauties. And another comes who is a poet, and 
to him it brings back the scene of Calvary. In a moment he 
is far away, and the sun is darkened, and the earth quakes, 
and there are thunderings and lightnings, and once more the 
Holy City pours forth its multitude to witness the death of 
Jesus. And then there comes a sinner. Ah ! that story of 
love and sufiering ! which tells how God so loved the world, 
and gave his only-begotten Son, that all who believe in Him 
should not perish, but have everlasting life. To him, that 
picture speaks of the horrors of sin, of mercy, of heaven and 
hell, and thoughts are awakened by it which lead him back 
to God. There hangs the picture, unaltered. It is just what 
the artist made it, neither more nor less, yet see how different 
it has been to different beholders. 

In'ow, just so it is with the preaching of the truth. As we 
recite the Creed, as we preach to you, Sunday after Sunday, 
the Creed itself is indeed unchangeable, but it is a different 
thing to each one of us who preach, and to each one of you 
who hear, according to your intelligence, your past history 
and your present dispositions. How can it be otherwise? 
Does not. the very word, God, mean something different to us 
from what it does to a saint ? Do not the words Presence of 
God, mean something different to you and me from what they 
did to St. Teresa, to whom the soul of man appeared as a castle 
with seven chambers, each one more sacred than the others, as 
you advanced into the interior, until the innermost shrine was 
reached, where God and the soul were joined together in a 
manner which human language knows not how to utter ? Do 
you not see that the doctrine of the Incarnation is something 
very different to us from what it was to St. Athanasius, who 
12 



266 DUTY OF GROWING IK CHEISTLIN KNOWLEDGE. 

spent his Avliole life in conflict for it, wlio endured years of 
exile and calumny, the estrangement of friends, the suspicion 
even of good men, rather than falter the least in fidelity to 
that verity on which his soul had fed ? Or the Real Prep • 
ence — is that not a different thing to the crovrd who come to 
church and kneel from custom, but hardly remember why, 
from what it was to St. Thomas, who composed in honor of 
it the wonderful hymns Pange Lingua and Laiida Sion^ or to 
St. Francis Xavier, who spent nights in prayer, prostrate upon 
the platform of the altar ? Why, St. Thomas, who has so writ- 
ten of the Christian faith that the Church has named him 
the angelical doctor, threw down his pen in hopelessness of 
being able to exprcLSS the high knowledge of divine things 
which filled his soul. And St. Paul confesses, in writing to 
the Hebrews, that even in that primitive community, taught 
by apostles and living in a perpetual call to martyrdom, 
there were some points of Christian truth which he found 
himself unable to utter, '' because you are become weak to 
hear."^ 

I know that you are Catholics, that you have the Apostles^ 
Creed by heart, that you believe in one God in Three Per- 
sons, in the Incarnation and Death of the Second Person of 
the Blessed Trinity, and in the two eternities before us; but 
neither you nor I know what all this implies. Our knowl- 
edge is very imperfect : we are but babes in Christ, lisping 
and stammering the Divine alphabet — children, wetting cm" 
feet in the waves which dash on the shore of the boundless 
ocean of truth. 

It is good for us, as I have already said, to remember 
this, for it gives us at once the true method of forming an 
estimate of Christianity. A tree is known by its fruit, but 
it is by its best fruit. If you have a tree in your garden 
bearing only a small quantity of very delicious fruit, you 

* Heb. V. II. 



DUTY OF GROWING IN CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE. 267 

prize it liiglily and take great care of it, tliough many of tlie 
blossoms fall off, and a great deal of the frnit never ripens. 
So yon mnst jndge of tlie Catholic Church, by its best and 
most perfect fruit, that is, by the men of great wisdom and 
great virtue whom it produces, and not by its imperfect 
members. Who is likely to be the best exponent and the 
truest specimen of his religion, a man of prayer and study, 
deeply versed in the Holy Scriptures and sacred learning, 
or one of small capacity, little learning, and little prayer ? 
Evidently, the former ; and yet how often do men take the 
contrary way of judging of the teaching and spirit of the 
Church. They visit some Catholic country, they see some 
instance of popular error, ignorance, or disorder, and they 
say : " This is Catholicity." Or, at home, they see or hear a 
Catholic do or say something which gives them offence, and 
they exclaim : " That is your doctrine ! " " That is your reli- 
gion ! " Now, supposing the offence they take to be justly 
taken, which is not always the case, what does it prove ? It 
may prove that the rulers of the Church have not done their 
duty ; but it may prove just the contrary, that they have 
done their duty— that in spite of the obstacles of ignorance 
and rudeness, they have succeeded in imparting to some 
darkened souls enough knowledge to lead them to God, 
though it be the very least that is sufficient for that purpose. 
But it does not show what the doctrine of the Church really 
is as intelligently understood. To find out this, you must 
look at men who are in the most favorable circumstances for 
understanding it, and they are the saints of God : St. Basil, 
St. Augustine, St. Francis of Sales, St. Teresa, St. Vincent 
of Paul. 

O my brethren ! how can men turn away from Catholicity ? 
I understand how they can turn away from it as you and I 
express it ; how we can fail to remove their difficulties, or 
even put new perplexity in their way. But how can they 
turn away from Catholicity as it is expressed by the great 



268 DUTY OF GROWING IN CHRISTIAN KNOWLEBGJil. 

saints of tlie Cliurcli? What a divine religion! What 
majesty, what sweetness, what wisdom, what power ! How 
it commands the homage of the world ! What a universal 
testimony it has in its favor, after all ! Do you knov/, my 
brethren, I believe men are far more in favor of Catholicity 
than we suspect. I believe half the difficulties they find in 
our religion are not in our religion at all, but in us ; in out 
ignorance, in our prejudices, in our short-sigh tedne&s and 
narrow-heartedness. What renders tlie world without excuse 
is the line of saints, the true witnesses to the genius and 
spirit of the Catholic religion. And yet, even the saints 
themselves are not the perfect exponents of the faith, 
for even the saints were not altogether free from ignorance 
and error. To understand fully the nobleness of the Chris- 
tian faith, we should need the help of inspiration itself. Did 
it never occur to you, my brethren, that the expressions of 
the prophets and apostles in reference to the light and grace 
brought by Jesus Christ into the world, were extravagant ? 
" Behold^ I will lay thy stones in order ^ and tcill lay thy 
foundations with sapphires^ and I will onake thy hulwarks 
of jasper : andj thy gates of graven stones^ and all thy horders 
of desirable stones. All thy children shall he taught of the 
Lord: and great shall he the peace of thy children^'' " Thou 
^lialt no more have the sun for thy light hy day^ neither 
shall the brightness of the moon enlighten thee: hut tlie 
Lord shall he unto thee for an everlasting light^ and thy 
God for thy glory. '^^ ■^* 

Does the Catholic Church, as you understand if, come up 
to these descriptions ? Is Catholic truth, as you appropriate 
it, so high and glorious a thing as this ? No ! And the rea- 
son is, that you are straitened in yourselves. Your concep- 
tions are so low, your knowledge of the trutli i.« so partial 
and limited, that you do not recognize tlie description wlien 

* Isaiah liv. 11-12; h. 19. 



DUTY OF GROWING IN CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE. 269 

tl<e Holy Gliost presents that truth as it is in itself, as it is 
seen and known by God. 

This thought leads us naturally to another ; namely, that it 
is the duty of each one of us to extend his knowledge of 
Christian truth as far as possible. There is a story told of a 
foreign gentleman visiting Rome, who went one day to St. 
Peter's Church, and, after entering the vestibule, admired its 
noble proportions, and returned home fully satisfied that he 
had seen the chui^ch itself, which he had not even entered. 
So it is with many persons who never pass beyond the vestibule 
of Christian knowledge. They never enter the inner temple, or 
catch even a glimpse of its vast heights and its dim distances, 
its receding aisles, its intricate archings, its glory, its rich- 
ness, and its mystery. O misery of ignorance ! which has 
ever been the heaviest curse of our race. O Morning Star, 
harbinger of eternal truth, and Sun of Justice, when wilt thou 
come to enlighten those that sit in darkness and in the 
shadow of death ! Alas! this is our grief, that the true 
Light is come into the world, but our eyes are li olden that 
we cannot see it. Truths, the thought of Avhich rapt the 
apostles into ecstasy, truths which the angels desire to look 
into, are published in our hearing, and awaken no aspiration, 
no stirring in our hearts. We go away, to eat and di^ink, 
and work, and play. O brethren ! burst for yourselves 
these bonds of ignorance. Do not say, I am not learned, I 
am not acute or profoilnd, I cannot hope to understand much. 
Eemember that there were some servants to whom one 
talent was given, who were called to account as well as those 
wlio had ten. Do what you can. A pure heart, a blameless 
life, and prayer, are great enlighteners. Read, listen, medi- 
tate, obey. Ask of God to enlarge your knowledge, and to 
teach you what it means to say you believe in Ilim. Ask of 
Jesus Christ to teach you what it means to say that He was 
made man and died for us on the cross ; what it is to receive 
His body and blood; what is the meaning of heaven and hell. 



270 DUTY OF GKOWING IX CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE. 

Awake thou that sleepest, and Christ shall give thee liglit ! 
He will make you understand more and more what it is to 
be a Christian. Often have I seen the fulfilment of this 
promise. I have been at the bedside of poor people, who 
would be called rude and illiterate, but to whose pure hearts 
and earnest prayers God had imparted so clear a knowledge 
of the faith, that I have felt in their humble rooms like 
Jacob when he awoke from sleep and said : " Indeed the 
Lord is in this place." ^ 

Men are talking about a Church of the futurf^ They say 
the old Church is decrepid, her theology is obsolete, she 
stimulates thought no more. But we know better. The 
Church of the future is the Church of the past. That 
Church is ever ancient and ever new. Her truth is not 
exhausted. Men know not the half nor the hundredth part of 
her hidden wisdoin. O the victory ! when men shall under- 
stand this — when they shall come confessing to the Holy 
Chm'ch,*as the Queen of Saba did to Solomon : " The report 
is true, which J heard in my own country, concerning thy 
words and concerning thy wisdom. And I did nothelieve 
them that told me, till I came myself and saw with ?ny own 
eyes^ and have found that the half hath not heen told me 'y 
thy vnsdom and thy %oorhs exceed the fame which I heard. 
Blessed are thy 7nen, and Messed are thy servants v)ho 
standj before thee always, and hear thy wisdom^'f 

Yes ! the history of the Church is not accomplished, her 
triumphs are not yet all written. Why does she, Advent 
after Advent, publish again the glowing predictions of the 
evangelical prophet, but because she knows that the^^ await 
a still more magnificent fulfilment ? Take courage — the 
cloud that rests on the people shall be lifted oif, and the bur- 
den taken away. The Ancient Church ^' shall no more be 
called forsaken, nor her land desolate.":}: '^ Arise, he enlight- 

* G^n. xxviii. 16. f III. Ki. x. G-8. % Is. Ixil 4. 



THE MISSION OF ST. JOHN 'iHE BAPTIST. 271 

ened^ Jerusalem : for thy light is come^ and the glory of 
the Lordj is risen xij^on thee. And the Gentiles shall walk in 
thy lights and Mngs in the hrighiness of thy rising. Then 
shalt thou see and ahound^ and thy heart shall ivonder and l)e 
enlarged,. And the children of them that affliot thee shall 
come hoioing down to thee^ and all that slandered thee shall 
worship the steps of thy feet ^ and shall call thee the city of the 
Lord^^ the Sion of the Holy One of IsraelP^ 



SERMON VI. 

THE MISSION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 

(SscoND Sunday in Advent.) 

" This is he of whom it is written : Behold I send My messenger before Thy 
face, who shall prepare Thy way before Thee." — St. Matt. xi. 10. 

The Scriptures of the Old Testament Lad foretold that a 
special messenger should immediately precede the coming of 
the Messias, whose duty would be to prepare men's hearts 
for His reception. Now, our Lord in the text tells us that 
St. John the Baptist was this messenger. It is for this 
reason that the Gospels read in the Church for the season of 
Advent are so full of the sayings and doings of this saint. In 
Advent the Church desires to prepare us for the twofold 
coming of Christ — at His Nativity and at the Last Judg- 
ment ; and it is natural that she should avail herself of the 
labors^ of one w^ho was divinely appointed for the same pur- 
pose. Accordingly, from Sunday to Sunday, during this 
season, she brings St. John the Baptist from his cell in the 
desert, clad in his rough garment, to preach to us Christian^ 

^ Isai. Ix. 1-14. 



272 THE MISSION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 

the same lessons lie preached to the Jewish people centuries 
ago. It has seemed to me, then, that I could not better sub- 
serve the intentions of the Church, than by considering ihis 
morning in what the mission of St. John the Baptist as a 
preparation for Christ's coming specially consisted, and what 
practical lessons it suggests to us. 

St. John the Baptist was of the priestly race, yet he never 
exercised the office of a priest. He was not a prophet, at 
least in the sense of one who foretells future events. He 
worked no miracles. He had no ecclesiastical position. 
What was he then ? What was his office? How did he pre- 
pare men for the coming of Christ ? The Scriptures tell us 
what he was. He was a '• Voice " and a " Gry^^ — the cry of 
conscience, the voice of man's immortal destiny. His mission 
was simple, elementary, and universal. It went deeper than 
ecclesiastical or ritual duties. It touched human probation 
to the very quich. He dealt with the great question of sal- 
vation, protested vehemently against sin, and published aloud 
that law of sanctity which is written on every man's heai't by 
the fino:er of God. 

We have some remains of his sermons, from which we can 
learn his style. " Begin not to say^'^ so he speaks to the Jews, 
'-^ we have Abraham to our father^ for God is ahle to raise 
up of these stones children to Abraham ^^ See, how he 
sweeps away external privileges, and goes straight to every 
man's conscience. ^' The axe is laid noic to the root of the 
trees ^ and every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit shall 
be cut down and cast into thefire,'^'^ ITothing but ^diat is in- 
ternal, nothing but what is sound at the core, can bear the 
scrutiny. He descends to the particulars of each man's state 
and condition of life. The people came to him and asked 
him, "What shall we do?" And he said: " He that hath 
two coats^ let him impart to him that hath none y and he thai 

* 8t. Luke iii. 8. 



THE MISSIOX OF ST. JOHX THE BAPTIST. 273 

hath meat let him do liJceioisey Tliat was a short and pithy 
Bermon ! Then the officers of tlie custom came and asked : 
" What shall we do ? " And he answered : '' Take nothing 
more than that loTdch is appointed youy Do not rob or 
swindle. Do not use bribery or extortion. And the soldiers 
asked him, saying : ^' And what shall ive do ?" And he 
said: "Do violence to no man: neither' calumniate any 
man ; and le content with your payP 

Such was the preaching of St. John tlie Baptist, pointed, 
direct, homely, practical : an echo of that trumpet-blast which 
once shook the earth, when God gave the Ten Command- 
ments out of the Mount. And it did its work. Our Lord 
himself has testified to the success of St. John's mission. It 
prepared men to believe in Christ. It was the school which 
trained disciples for Christianity. They that believed in St. 
John believed afterwards in Christ. On one occasion the 
evangelist gives it as the explanation why some believed and 
some rejected the words of Jesus, that they had first believed 
or rejected the words of the Baptist. '' All the people^'^ 
such is the language I refer to, "justified God^ heing bap- 
tized with the baptism of John^ hut the Pharisees and the 
lawyers despised the counsel of Godj against themselves^ heing 
not haptized of himP ^ 

Nor is it difficult to explain how his preaching eflfected this 
result. Christ came to save sinners. In point of fact, we 
know that this is the reason why He has come into the world. 
He has come to seek and save that which w^as lost. 
He has come to heal the broken-hearted. He has 
come to give us a new law, higher and holier than the 
old, yet easier by the brightness of His example, and. the 
graces He imparts. Now, unless a man feels the evil of sin, 
unless he wants to keep the law, unless he feels an interest, 
and a deep interest, in the question of his destiny, he does not 

* St. Luke vii. 29, 30. 



274 THE MISSION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 

care for Clirist. True, our Lord has given to the understand- 
ing proofs of Ilis divine mission, so that belief in Him may 
be a reasonable act ; but until the conscience is stirred up, 
the understanding has no motive for considering these proofs. 
To the carnal and careless Jews, the announcement of Christ*s 
coming was, I suppose, simply uninteresting. In some points 
of view, indeed, they might have welcomed Him. As a tem- 
poral prince and deliverer. His advent would have been 
hailed by them, but salvation from sin was a matter in which 
they felt no great concern. What did they w^ant with 
Christ ? Why does He come at all to consciences wliich do 
not crave rest, and wills tliat need no strength ? What need 
of a Saviourj if there is no sin to be shunned, no hell to be 
feared, no heaven to be won, no great struggle between good 
and evil, no eternity in peril ? 

But once let all this be fully understood. Let a man's 
conscience be fully awakened. Let him realize his destiny, 
above and beyond this world ; let him appreciate the evil of 
sin that defeats his destiny ; let him, if the case be so, perceive 
how far out of the way he has gone by his sins ; and then how 
full of interest, how full of meaning, becomes the exclamation 
of St. John, as he points to Christ and says : " Behold the 
Zamb of God^ that taketh away the sins of the world ! " 
Let a man's spiritual nature be stirred within him ; let him 
aspire to what is pure and high ; aim at regulating his pas- 
sions ; struggle, amid inordinate desires and the importuni- 
ties of creatures which encompass him like a flood, toward 
the highest good and the most perfect beauty ; and, oh ! with 
what music do these words of Christ fall on his soul : " Come 
unto J/<?, all ye that labor and are heavy laden^ and 1 will 
V fresh you. Take my yoke upon you and learn of Me^ and 
you shall find rest to your souls. For My yoke is sweety 
a id My burden is light.'^^ "^ It seems too good to be true. 

♦ St. Matt. xi. 29, 30. 



THE MISSION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 276 

He listens, and asks, " May I believe this ?" " Is there really 
a way through this world to heaven? a sm^e, clear, easy 
way ?" He finds that his understanding not only allows, but 
compels him to believe in Christ : he is happy ; he believes ; 
his faith is a conviction into which his whole nature enters ; 
it entwines itself with every fibre of his soul. 

The connection, then, between the preaching of the Baptist 
and the coming of Christ was not a temporary one. It is 
essential and necessary. St. John is still the forerunner of 
Christ. The preaching of the commandments is ever the 
preparation for faith. The awakening of a man's conscience 
is the measure of his appreciation of Christ. Our Lord 
gives many graces to men without their own co-operation. 
Many of the gifts of Providence, and the first gifts in the 
order of grace, are so bestowed. But an enlightened appre- 
ciation of Christianity, a personal conviction of its truth, a 
real and deep attachment to it, will be always in proportion 
to the thoroughness with which a man has sounded the 
depths of his own heart, to the sincerity with which sin 
is hated and feared, and holiness aspired after. Christ is 
never firmly seated m the soul of man till he is enthroned 
on the conscience. " Unto you that fear My name^ shall 
the San of Justice ariss^ and health in his wingsT * 

And, here, my brethren, in this law or fact which I 
stated, we have the key to several practical questions of 
great importance. 

Here we have, in great part at least, an explanation why 
conversions to the Catholic Church are not more frequent 
than they are. Surely the Catholic Church is prominent 
enough in the. eyes of men. From her church towers she 
cries aloud. In the streets, at the opening of her gates, 
she utters her word, saying : " children of men^ how long 
will you love folly ^ and the unwise hate knowledge f Turn 

* St. Matt. iv. 2: 



276 THE MISSION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST, 

ye at my reproof P Her antiquity, lier unity, lier diii^ersaiity, 
the sanctity of so many of iter children, are enough to arrest 
the attention of every thoughtful man. But Low few heed 
her voice ! True, here and there, there are souls who recog- 
nise in her the true teacher sent by Christ, the guide of their 
souls, and submit themselves to her safe and holy keeping 
Altogether, they make a goodly company ; but how small in 
proportion to those who are left behind ! It reminds us of 
the words of the prophet : '^ / loill take one of a city^ and 
two of a family and hring you into SionP ^ They come 
by ones and twos, and the mass remains behind. And what 
does that mass think of the Catholic Church? Some are 
entirely ignorant of her, almost as though she did not exist. 
Some have wrong ideas about her, and hate her. Some know 
a good deal about her doctrines, and are conversant w^ith the 
proofs of them, and argue about them, and criticise them. 
Some are favorably inclined to her. Some patronise her. It 
was just so Avith Christ. To some He was simply unknown, 
tliough He was in their midst. To some He was an impostor 
and a blasphemer. To many He was an occasion of dispute, 
some affirming Him to be a "good man," others saying, 
'^ Nay, He deceiveth the people." To some He was an inno- 
vator on the established religion, the religion of the respecta- 
ble and educated. To others. His mysteries were an offence, 
and the severity of His doctrine a stumbling-block. Why is 
this? Why is it always thus? Why are men so slow to be 
wise, and to be hapi)y ? I do not wish, my brethren, to give 
too sweeping an answer. I know there is such a thing as 
inculpable ignorance. I believe there are many on their way 
to the Church who are not suspected of it, and who, perhaps, 
do not suspect it themselves. I know that God has His 
seasons of grace and providence. I know that each Imman 
mind is different from every other, and has its own law of 

* Jer. iii. 14. 



THE MISSION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 277 

working, its own way of arriving at conviction. But after 
all sugIi deductions, are there not very many of whom it is a 
plain matter of fact to say that they loill not give their 
attention to this subject ? They may even have conscious 
doubts on their minds, and live and die with these unattended 
to, unresolved. It is a want of religious earnestness. Men 
do not ask : " What shall I do to be saved ?" Or at least, 
they do not give to that question their supreme attention. 
They do not grapple with their destiny. They are indifferent 
to it, or hopeless about its solution. They let themselves 
float on, leaving the questions of the future to decide them- 
selves as they may, and live in the pleasures and interests of 
the present. 

Oh, fatal supineness ! unworthy a rational being, defeating 
the end of our creation, and entailing countless miseries here 
and hereafter. Nothing can be hoped for from the world, till 
it awakes from its lethargy of indiiference. Men must be 
men before you can make them Christians — serious, thought- 
ful earnest men, before you have any reason for expecting 
them to become Catholics. There is more hope of a con- 
scientious bigot, than for a man indifferent to his salvation. 
He, at least, is in earnest. If his mind should become en- 
lightened, if he should recognise the Catholic Church as the 
divinely-appointed guide to that heaven w^hich he is seeking, 
there is reason to hope that he will avail himself of her 
blessings. He will not make frivolous objections; he will 
not stumble at the Sacrament of Confession, or catch at everv 
scandalous story of immorality on the part of a Catholic, or 
quarrel with every minute ritual arrangement ; but in a bet- 
ter, higher, nobler spirit, in that spirit of obedience which so 
well becomes a man, in that spirit of faith, in which man's 
reason asserts most clearly its high character, by uniting 
itself to and embracing the Reason of God, when he finds 
that the Church is the guide to his immortal destiny, he 
" will come hendhig to her^ and will worshij? the stej^s of her 



278 THE MISSION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 

feet^ and id ill call her the City of the Lord^ the Sion of the 
Holy One of Israel P 

And now, to turn our eyes within tlie Church, we can in 
the same way account for those dreadful apostasies from the 
Catholic faith which are here and there recorded in histor3^ 
Mahometanism, which in numbers is a rival to Catholicity, 
possesses some of the fairest lands once owned by Christ. In 
modern times, one of the most refined and enlightened 
nations of Christendom, in a moment of frenzy, threw off 
the faith with which her history had, been so adorned, and 
professed Atheism. Now, how did these things happen? 
Not of a sudden, or all at once. Men are not changed from 
Christians into Turks or Infidels in an hour. There must 
have been some secret moral history, which accounts for this 
wonderful change. And so there Avas. Men became lax in 
their conduct. The Catholicity they practised was not the 
Catholicity of Christ and the Apostles. Public morals were 
conformed to the standard of heathenism rather than that 
of the gospel — nay, sometimes outraged as much the de- 
cencies of heathenism as the precepts of Christ. It was the 
old story. St. John the Baptist imprisoned by an adulterous 
king ; St. John the Baptist, conspired against and murdered 
by an ambitious queen ; the head of St. John the Baptist, 
eloquent and reproachful even in death, brought in to point 
the jest and stimulate the revelry of a lascivious feast — this 
is but a figure of the treatment which conscience has received 
in Christian courts, and at the hands of Christian princes. 
Morality and decency grew out of date, and were cast aside 
like old-fashioned garments, and the restraints of the Law of 
God were as feeble as cobwebs before the power of passion. 
Now, what else could be the result of all this, but a disesteem 
of Christianity itself? True, it might retain some hold upon 
men^s minds for a time. The fact that it was the relirfon of 
their ancestors, the fact that they were baptized in it, the 
heauty of its ceremonies and architecture, the soothing influ- 



TfiE MISSION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 2l^ 

ence of its ordinances, the services it lias rendered to civilisa- 
tion, might keep it standing in its place for a time ; but these 
considerations are not strong enough to withstand the power 
of hell, when it is exerted in the way of persecution, or a 
general apostasy. " Every plant that my Heavenly Father 
hath not planted^ shallhe rooted wp^'^ '^^\^ Christ.^ It must 
be a supernatural motive that binds us to our faith. Christ 
and the Law cannot long remain divorced. A people without 
conscience will soon be a people without faith ; and a nation 
of triflers only waits the occasion, to become a nation of 
apostates. 

It is not, then, without a sjjecial providence of God, that 
in these later days the missionary orders of the Church have 
been multiplied. In the sixteenth century the intellectual 
defence of the faith was the Church's greatest need, and that 
was most successfully accomplished. But there is needed 
something more to uphold the falling fabric of modern society. 
Men need to be reminded of the first principles of morality. 
And, therefore, a St. Alphonsus appears m Naples, a St. 
Yincent of Paul in France ; missionary orders in every land 
go about teaching the people, before it is too late, the very 
first and fundamental truths — -the doctrine of repentance and 
^ood works. Here, in every age, and every country, is the 
real danger to faith. We speak often of the dangers to faith 
in this country ; and unquestionably we have our special 
trials here. Some of our children are lost by neglect. Some 
grow cold in the unfriendly atmosphere that surrounds them. 
But the real danger to be dreaded is, that the love of the 
Church herself should grow cold; that a wide-spread de- 
moralisation should take place among ourselves; that we 
should forget the keeping of the Ten Commandments. This, 
indeed, would be the prelude to our destruction. Practical 
morality makes a strong Church ; but let morality be forgot- 

* St. Matt. XV. 13. 



280 THE MISSION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 

ten, and the Cliurcli, while it has a name to Hve, is dead 
And as a corpse long decomposed sometimes retains the human 
form mitil it is exposed to the air, when it crumbles into 
dust ; so a dead Church will be blown to atoms aad swept 
away, the first strong blast that hell breathes against it. 

And, in fine, by the light of the thought which I have been 
endeavoring to present to you this morning, we see the means 
by which we ought to make sure our personal union with 
Christ. Christ is coming. lie is coming at Christmas to 
unite llimself with those whom He shall find prepared. He 
is coining again, and the mountains shall melt before Him ; 
for He is coming to judge the world. " Who shall stand to 
see Him f For He shall he as a Refiyiing Fire^ and shall try 
the Sons of Levi as gold and sil'^erP * How shall we abide 
His coming, my brethren ! how shall we prepare to meet 
Him? I know no other way than that which St. John the 
Baptist recommended to the Jews — a true and solid conver- 
sion. Whether a man has committed mortal sin or not, 
whether he is born a Catholic or not, there comes upon him, 
if he is a true Christian, some time in his life, a change which 
Catholic writers call conversion. It may not be sudden. It 
may be all but imperceptible. It may be more than once. 
But at least once, there comes a time when religion becomes a • 
matter of personal conviction with him. He is different from 
what he was before. A change has passed over him. He 
has awakened to his moral accountability. His manhood is 
developed. His conscience is aroused. And until that hap- 
pens, you cannot count on him. He may seem innocent and 
pious, but you cannot tell whether it will not be '' like the 
dew that passeth away in the morning." You cannot say 
how he will act in temptation. You cannot reckon on what 
he will be next year. Perhaps tlien he will draAV sin '' as w^ith 
a cart-rope." The trouble with such men is not that they 

« St Matt iii. 2, 3. 



THE MISSION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST. 281 

hin sometimes. Alas ! sueli is human frailty that a single 
fall would not disliearten us ; but* the real misery is, that 
they have no principle of not sinning. They are not pre- 
paring for Christ's judgment. Their contrition, such as it is. 
is intended to prepare them for confession, not for eternity 
See, then, what we want ! 

And this is what I understand by the penance which St 
John the Baptist preached. lie practised it himself. It ia 
thought that in St. John's case the use of reason was granted 
before birth ; and when as a babe lie leaped in liis mother's 
womb, it was for conscious joy at the presence of his Lord 
and Saviour. And since the Blessed Virgin and St. Eliza- 
beth were cousins, doubtless St. John and our Blessed Saviour 
knew each other as children. It is more than probable that 
they used to play together when they were boys, as the paint- 
ers loved to represent them. And oh ! what an effect did 
the knowledge of Christ have on St. John ! It took the color 
out of earthly beauty, and the music out of earthly joy. 
There was with him afterward one overpowering desire — 
the desire of sanctity. He had seen a vision of heaven. Not 
because he despised the world, but because a higher beauty 
was opened to his soul, he went into the desert, and his meat 
was locusts and wild lioney. One aim he had : to purify his 
heart. One thought : to prepare for heaven, and to help 
others also to prepare. 

Oh, let us heed his words and example. Let us follow him, 
if not in the rigor of his fastings, at least in the sincerity of 
his penance. Be converted, and tm^n to the Lord your God. 
There is no other way of preparing for judgment. Remem- 
ber what the Church says to you at the Font : " If thou wilt 
enter into life, keep the commandments." Listen to what 
God Himself counsels, when prophesying the terrors of the 
last day : " Heinem'ber the law of Ifoses^ My servant^ which 1 
commanded him in Horeb for all Israel^ the precepts and 
jicdgments,'^'^ ^ The law commanded in Horeb — ^that eternal 



282 god's desire to be loved. 

law of right, and justice, and purity, and ti nth— examine 
yourself by this standard ] forsake every evil way and live a 
Christian life. Happy are they who do so ! Happy and se- 
cure shall they be in the evil time. When the earth and 
heaven shall be sliaken, and sea and land give up their dead, 
and the Son of Man appear in the heavens, and the Throne 
shall be set for judgment, then look up and lift up your head, 
for your redemption draweth nigh. You have been true to 
your conscience ; you have believed in Christ ; you have 
kept His law ; now to you belongs the promise, " Then they 
that feared the Lord spohe every man with his iieighhor^ and 
the Lord gave ear^ and heard it : and a hoolc of remeiribrance 
was written hefore the Lord for them that fear the Lord^ and 
thinh on LLis Name. And they shall he My special posses- 
sion^ saith the Lord of Hosts ^ in the day thai L do judgment : 
and L will spare them as a man spareth his own son that 
serveth himP f 



SEEMON Vn. 

GOD'S DESIRE TO BE LOVED. 

(CHKISTMAS DAY.) 

"Thou art beautiful above the sons of men: grace is pourei abroad in Thy 
lips ; therefore hath God blessed Thee forever. Gird Thy sword upon Thy 
thigh, Thou most mighty. With Thy comeliness and Tliy beauty, set out, pro- 
ceed prosperously and reign." — Ps. xliv. 3-5. 

The Church calls on us to-day to rcvjoice and be glad for 
the Incarnation of the Son of God. With a celebration 
peculiar to this Feast, she breaks the dead silence of the night 

* St. Matt. iv. 4. t St. Matt. iii. 16, 17. 



god's desire to be loved. 283 

witli her first Mass of joy. She repeats it again as the east 
reddens with the dawn. And still again, when the sun is 
shining in full day, she ofiers anew a Mass of thanksgiving 
for a blessing which can never be sufficiently praised and 
magnified. I have thought that I could not better attune 
your hearts to all this gladness and gratitude than by 
reminding you of one of the motives of the Incarnation. 
Why did our Lord become man ? and why did He become 
Man in the way He did ? I answer, out of His desire to be 
loved by us. There is a love of benevolence, which is con- 
tent simply with doing good without asking a return. God 
has this love for us. N'ature and reason tell us so. ^^He 
mciketh His S2in to rise on the good and the had^ and ralneth 
upon the just and the unjiLst^ ^ And there is another love, 
the love of friendship, which seeks to be united to the object 
of its love. And the Incarnation shows us that God has this 
kind of love for man. His love makes us lovable in His eyes, 
and this again makes Him vehemently desire our love. This 
will be my subject this morning — the Incarnation, an evi- 
dence of God's desire to be loved by us. 

And, first, observe, that there is no other rea^son given for 
the Incarnation which sufficiently accounts for it in all its 
circumstances. There are several reasons for the Incarnation. 
It is the doctrine of many Catholic theologians that God 
would have become Man even if man had never sinned ; that 
it was part of His original plan in forming the creature thus 
to unite it to Himself. Again, it is said that our Lord 
became Man in order to make satisfaction for sin. And a 
third reason alleged for His becoming Man, is, that He might 
give us a perfect example. ITow all these reasons are true : 
but neither of them alone, nor all of them together, entirely 
account for the Incarnation with all its circumstances. Not 
the first, for even if God had predetermired that Hi» Son 

* St. Matt. V. 45 



284: god's desire to be loved. 

Bliould become Man, irrespective of man's transgression, cer 
tainly in that case He would not have come poor and sorrow- 
fal, as He did. The necessity of a satisfaction for sin accounts 
indeed for our Lord's sufferings in part, but not altogether ; 
for He suffered far more than was necessary. Besides, it was 
not necessary for a Divine Person to have suffered for us un- 
less it had pleased God to require a perfect satisfaction, 
which He was free to demand or dispense with. The desire 
to give a good example may be suggested as the explanation 
of our Lord's humiliation ; but when we consider a moment, 
we will see that though a good man rei^Uy does give a good 
example, he does very few, if any of his actions, for the 
mere sake of giving it. There are many things, then, in our 
Lord's becoming Man, and His life as Man, that need some 
further reason. What is that reason ? It is His great desire 
to be loved by us. Suppose this, and every thing is clear. 
I do not mean to say that this account of our Lord's Incar- 
nation makes it any less wonderful — it makes it more so — 
but it gives a motive for it all. Suppose Him influenced by 
an intense desire to gain our love, and then we see why He 
stooped so low, why He did so much more than was neces- 
sary, why he was so lavish in condescension — in a word, this 
is the explanation of what would otherwise seem to be the 
excess of His lore. 

Then, again, let us consider how our Lord's Incarnation is 
adapted to win our love. When we see means perfectly 
adapted to an end, we are apt to conclude that they w^ere 
chosen in view of that end. Now, our Lord's humiliation is 
in all its parts wonderfully calculated to attract love. 

His taking our nature is especially so. There is a won- 
derful power in blood. To bo of kin is a tie that survives 
all changes and all times. ISTow, here our Lord makes Him- 
self of km to us, of the same blood. He is no stranger, be- 
fore whom we need feel at a great distance, but our relation, 
of our flesh and blood. 



GOD'S DESIRE TO BE LOVED. 285 

And then as Man, He has clothed Himself with every thing 
that can make Him attractive in the eyes of man. He 
makes His first appearance in the world as an Infant, a beau- 
tiful Babe. How attractive is a beautiful child ! Men even 
of rugged natures are softened by looking at it. A little 
child brings a flood of grace and light into a house. Now, 
to-day, the Son of God is a Babe at Bethlehem. He has 
the beauty of infancy, but there is also a superadded beauty, 
a light playing on His features that is not of earth, the light 
of Infinite Wisdom and Eternal Love. See, He looks around 
and smiles, and stretches out His hands, as if inviting us to 
caress Him. 

In many children this beauty of infancy is evanescent, but 
in our Lord it was the earnest of a grace and loveliness that 
followed Him through life. It is evident that there was 
something most attractive about our Lord to those who ap- 
proached Him. As He grew in stature He increased in 
favor, not only wdth God but with men. When He had at- 
tained to manhood, He was such a one that children wilhngly 
gathered around Him in the streets, and people stopped to 
look at Him as He passed, and men'& minds were strangely 
stirred in them* as He spoke, and the thouglit came into 
women's hearts, " How happy to be the mother of such a 
Son !" Who but He knew how perfectly to mingle dignity 
with familiarity, zeal with serenity, and austerity with com- 
passion ? Even at the distance of time that we are from His 
earthlv life, His words reach us like the sweetest music. 
What other preacher can say the same words again and again, 
and never make us weary ? Whose tones are there that linger 
in our ears hke His, and come like a spell to our hearts in 
times of temptation and sorrow ? Why, even scoffers have 
acknovrledged this. The beauty and excellence of our Sa- 
viour's character have wrung a eulogium from a celebrated 
opponent of Christianity, and at least a momentary confession 
that its author was Divine. 



286 god's DESIRE TO BE LOVED. 

Tlien, to the attractions of His character, our Lord haa 
added the destitution of His circumstances, in order to gain 
otir love. It is natural for us to love any thing that is de- 
pendent on us. The sick child that needs to be Lursed, the 
helpless and depressed, the poor that appeal to us, even the 
bird and the dog that look to us for their food, come to have 
a place in our hearts. Now, our Lord, at least even in this 
way to win iis, has placed Himself in a state of complete de- 
pendence on u^. From the cradle to the grave, and even 
beyond the grave. He appeals to man for the supply of every 
want. 

Think what it might have been. Think of the twelve 
legions of angels that are impatient to come and minister to 
Him. But no ! He restrains them. For his swathing-bands. 
He will be a debtor to Mary's care. For a habitation. He 
will put up with the stall of the ox and the ass. The man- 
ger from which the cattle are fed shall be His cradle. St. 
Joseph shall bear the expenses of his early years ; and when 
St. Joseph is gone, and He has begun His ministry of 
preaching, Joanna and the otlier holy women shall minister 
to Him of their substance. And at last, Magdalene shall 
anoint His body for burial, ai\d Joseph of Arimathea shall 
give Him a winding-sheet and a grave. 

I said He carried His poverty beyond the grave. And so 
He does. For His churches, fbr the glory of His altars, for 
His priests, for His sacraments, even for the bread and wine 
which shall serve as veils for His presence. He depends on 
us, that out of love we may minister to Him, and by minis- 
tering may love Him better. 

And, further : while on the one hand our Lord thus ap- 
peals to our affections by the poverty of His condition, on 
the other He compels our love by the greatness of His sacri- 
fices for us. In His Sermon on the Mount, He bids us, '^ If 
any man force us to go with Him a mile, to go with him 



god's desire to be loved. 287 

other two;''^ and certainly it has been by tliis rcJc that He 
has acted toward us. I have already said our Lord has done 
far more than was necessary to redeem us. Why, in strict- 
ness of justice, He had ransomed us before He was born. 
The very first act of love He made to His Father, after His 
conception, was enough to redeem countless worlds. But 
He did not then go back to His Father. He staid on earth 
to do more for us. He would not leave any thing undone 
that could be done. He would not leave a single member 
of His body, a single power of His soul, that was not turned 
into a sacrifice for us. 

No doubt, if, at the birth of any child, we could foresee all 
it would have to suffer during its life, there would be enough 
to mingle sadness with our joy. But this child was pre- 
eminently a child of sorrow ; and Simeon, w^hen he took 
Him up in his arms, foresaw that the sad future would break 
His mother's heart. Yes, that little Child is the willing vic- 
tim of our sins. On that little head the crown of thorns 
shall be placed. Those tiny hands shall be pierced with nails. 
Those eyes shall weep. Those ears shall be filled with 
reproach and blasphemy. That smooth cheek be spit upon. 
That mouth be filled with vinegar and gall. And why was 
all this ? He Himself has told us : '* And I, if I be lifted up 
from the earth, will draw all things to Myself." f That was 
the hope that urged Him on. That was the key to His 
whole life. It was all an effort, a struggle, to gain our 
love. 

And, once more : the effect of the Incarnation has been 
love. We read God's purposes in their fulfilment. We see 
what our Lord intended in His humiliation, by looking at 
what it has produced. There is no doubt that the love of 
God has been far more general among men, and far more 
tender, since the Incarnation. Only compare St. Antony of 

♦ St. Matt. V. 41. t St. John lil 32. 



288 GOB^S DESIRE TO BE LOVED 

Padua, fondling the Infant Jesus, with Elias, covering his 
face with his mantle before the Lord in the cave at Horeb. 
Compare the book of Job with the epistles of St. Paul or St. 
John. God is in both books; but the Prophet sees Ilim 
through a glass darkly : the Apostles " have seen and 
handled the Word of Life." One of the most beautiful 
passages in the Old Testament, and one which approaches 
the nearest to the New, is the history of the martyrdom of 
the seven sons with their mother in the time of Judas Macha- 
bseus. But how this story pales before the Acts of the 
Christian Martyrs! In these Jewish heroes we see, indeed, 
faith in God, and remembrance of His promises, and liope in 
the Resurrection ; but how different is this from the glowing 
language of an Ignatius, who claimed to carry Christ within 
him ; or of an Agnes, who claimed to be the Spouse of Christ, 
whom He had betrothed with a ring, and adorned with 
bridal jewels ! 

Nor is it only in highly spiritual people, or highly gifted 
people of any kind, that we see this Christian, personal love 
of God. The poor, the dull, the ignorant cannot understand 
the abstract arguments about God, but they can understand 
a crucifix, they know the meaning of Bethlehem and Calvary. 
And many an old woman, who knows little more, has learned 
enough to make her happy, in the thought that " God so 
loved the world as to give His only hegotten Son^ that whoso- 
ever helieveth in Ilim may not jperish^ hut may have life ever- 
lasting^ ^ 

Then there are children ; some people complain" that they 
find it very hard to interest them in religion. I will tell you 
how to succeed. Tell them the story of Joseph and Mary, 
and the Babe lying in a manger. Tell them about the 
shepherds that were watching their flocks by night, and the 
angels that came and talked to them. Tell them about the 

* St. John iil 1«. 



GOD'S DESIRE TO BE LOVED. 289 

garden in whicli Jesus was betrayed, and the cross on which 
he died, and you will see their little eyes open wide with 
interest. I knew a boy who, when he read the story of 
Peter's denial of our Lord, got up from his seat, and, with 
tears in his eyes, exclaimed, '' Oh, mother, what made Peter 
do that!" And I have heard of a little boy who, when he 
was dying, called his mother to his side, and told her that he 
liad kept all the money she had given him, in a little box, 
and when he was dead he wanted her to take it and buy a 
coat for the Infant Jesus. 1 know it was a strange, childish 
conceit ; but it showed that our Saviour had found His way 
to that little boy's heart ; and sure I am that when, in Para- 
dise, he stood before the bright throne of Christ, and heard 
from those divine lips the praise of his short life, that legacy 
was not forgotten. 

Yes ; our Lord has found out the way to win hearts. He 
has succeeded. The issue proves the wisdom of his plan. 
As heaven liiis up with saints flaming with love, He says, 
"Whence are these? and who hath begutten them?" Then 
He remembers that they are the fruit of the travail of His 
soul, that they were born to Him at Bethlehem and Calvary, 
and He " is satisfied." , 

The truth is, we are not so sensible of this eflfect of the In- 
carnation, because we are so familiar with it. We hardly 
realize how meagre men's notions about God naturally are. 
Of course, we know by reason the existence of God, and many 
of His attributes; but without revelation, these are very in- 
distinct. We know that He is great and good and beauti- 
ful ; but still there is a gulf between us and Him. Partly, 
no doubt, this arises from our sense of guilt. We fear God, 
because we have offended Him. But there is a dread of God, 
and a sense of distance from Him, that does not come from 
guilt. The most innocent feel it the keenest. I know not 
why, but we dread Him because He is so spiritual. He is so 
Btrange and mysterious. We cannot think what He is like, 
13 



290 god's desire to be loyed. 

We lo^e ourselves when we tiy to think of Him. There are 
so many things in the world that frighten us. We do not 
know how God feels toward us. We hhve a diffidence in 
approaching Him which we cannot shake oif. Now, all the 
while, God is full of tlie most wonderful love to man. Heaven 
is not enough for Him. Even with the angels, it is a wilder- 
ness because man is absent. At last He resolves what He 
will do. He will lay aside altogether that majest}^ w^hich 
aftrights man so much. " The distance is too great," He 
says, " betwet^n Me and My creatures. I Myself will become 
a creature. Man flies from Me. I will become Man. Every 
thing loves its kind. I will make Myself like him. 'I will 
draw him with the cords of Adam, with the bands of love.'* 
I will tell him how the case stands — that I love him and 
desire his love. I will tell him to Iqve Me, not for his sake, 
but Mine ; and when I have made him understand this — when 
I have gained his love ; when I have healed his wound and 
made him happy — then I will come back, and call on all the 
angels of heaven, and say, ' Rejoice with Me, for I have 
found the sheep that I had lost.' " 

Such is the enterprise that our Lord enters on to-day. He 
comes to tell you how He loves you, apd how He desires your 
love. " Behold, I bring to you glad tidings of great joy, and 
this shall be the sign to you: you shall find the Infant wrap- 
ped in swaddling-clothes, and laid in a manger." It is a sign 
of Humanity. It is a sign of Beauty. It is a sign of Humil- 
ity. It is a sign of Love. He speaks to you, not in words, 
but in actions. The cold w^ind whistles in His cavern, but 
He will not have it otherwise. David said : " I will not en- 
ter into the tabernacle of my home : Iioill not go up into my 
hed, I will not give sleep to niy eyes^ or slumber to my eyC" 
lidsj or rest to my temples^ imtil I find out a place for the 
Lord^ a tabernacle for the God of Jacob, '^'^ f So the new-boru 

♦ Osee li. 4. + leai. cxxxi. 3-6. 



god's desire to be loved. 291 

Saviour will not take any comfort till He lias got your love. 
He is waiting in tlie manger, and until you come and take 
Him home. He will accept no otlier. The palaces of tlie 
world, and all the jewels and the gold are His, but He will 
have none of them. He wants to abide in your lowly house, 
and in your poor heart. His head is full of dew, and His 
locks of the drops of the night, and He knocks for you to open 
to Him. Oh, to-day, I do not envy those who will not re- 
ceive Him. I do not envy those who are wandering about 
in error, and know not the true Bethlehem, the House of 
Bread^ the Holy Church of God. I do not envy the disobe- 
dient Christian. I do not envy the indifferent man, for whom 
Christ is born in vain. But I praise those who make it their 
first care to keep themselves united to Jesus Christ. And 
most of all, I praise those who strive to maintain a holy fa- 
miliarity with Jesus Christ; who by prayer, by communion, 
by self-denial, by generous obedience, return their Saviour 
love for love. 

O my brethren, why do we grovel on earth, when we might 
have our conversation in heaven ? Why do we set our hearts 
on creatures, when we might have the Creator for our friend ? 
Why do we follow the Evil One, when He that is beautiful 
above the sons of men is our Master and our Lord ? Why 
are we so weak in temptation, so despairing in trial, when we 
might have the peace and joy of the children of God ? What 
more can we want ? God has given us the Only-begotten 
Son, the Mighty God, the Wonderful Counsellor, the Prince 
of Peace; and how shall He not w^ith Him freely give us all 
things ? All we want i^* to recognize our happiness. When 
Jacob woke from sleep, he said : '' The Lord is in this place, 
and I knew it not." So we do not realize how near God is 
to us. What is the sound that reaches us to-day ? It is the 
voice of the Beloved, calling to us : "My love, My spouse, 
My undefiled !" Yes, my Lord, I answer to Thy call. I 
enter to-day into the school of Thy Holy Love. I make now 



292 THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL. 

the resolution that " henceforth neither life nor death^ nor 
height nor depth^ nor any other creature shall he able to sep< 
arate me from the love of Ood^ which is in Christ Jesus our 
Lm^d:' ^ 



SEEMON YIII. 

THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF* THE GOSPEL. 

(SEXAGESIMA.) 

* Saying these things he cried out : He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." 

St. Luke viii. 8. 

There is one measure by which, if our Lord's work were 
tried, it might be pronounced a failure ; and that is by the 
measure of great immediate, visible results. The thought 
;iiight con^ into our mind, that it is strange our Lord w^as 
not more successful than He w^as. He was the Son of God, 
no one ever spake as He did. He conversed with a great 
number of men — in Jerusalem, in Judea, in Galilee. He 
was always going about from place to place. He died in the 
sight of a whole city. Yet what was the result of all ? On 
the Day of Pentecost, His disciples were gathered together 
in the upper chamber, and they numbered, all told, one 
hundred and twenty. So it is, likewise, with the Church. 
After all, what has she done ? Put her numbers at the high- 
est. Say she has two hundred millions of souls in her commu- 
nion. What are they to the eight hundred millions that inhabit 
be globe ?f And how many of her members are there who 

* Romans viii. 39. 

\ Recent estimates of the population of the globe vary from 840,000,000, to 
1,300,000,000, and of tlie number of Catholics from 160,000,000 to 208,000,000. 
OlDCr Christians are about 130,000,000. 



THE FAILURE AISTD SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL. 293 

can be called Catholics or Christians, only in a broad, exter- 
nal sense ! Has Christianity, then, accomplished the results 
that might have been looked for? Is it not a failure? 

I will attempt this morning to giv^e some reasons showing 
that Christianity is not a failure, although it has accom- 
plished only partial results. And the first remark I make is 
this : that partial results belong to every thing human. Al- 
though Christianity is a divine religion, by coming into tlie 
world it became subject in many respects to the laws that 
govern human things. To specify one, Christianity demands 
attention, ^'He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." Witli- 
out attention, Christianity will never produce its impression 
on our conduct. Now, attention is a thing hard to get from 
men. It is one of the greatest wants in the world, the want 
of attention. '' With desolation is all the land made desolate^^ 
says the Holy Scripture, '' lecause there is none that consid- 
ereth in the hearth ^ We see examples of this on every 
side. Take the instance of young men at college. Aftei 
passing several years there, at a considerable expense to 
their parents, professedly for the sake of acquiring an edu- 
cation, a certain number of them know nothing but the 
names of the things they have been studying. This is the 
entire result of all they have heard or read, an acquisition 
of some of the terms made use of in science. Others have 
gained some confused and partial knowledge, which for 
practical purposes is all but useless ; while those who have 
acquired precise, accurate, useful information, that is, who 
have gained any real science^ are few indeed. It is the same 
in business. Every trade and profession is crowded with bun" 
glers who do not know their own business, because they have 
been too Jazy to learn it, and who grumble at the success of 
others who have not spared the pains necessary to become 
masters. So also it is in politics. We hear a great deal 

* Jer. xii 11. 



291 THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF THE aOSPEL 

about the general diffusion of intelligence in this country, 
and are told how the sovereign people watch the actions of 
public men and call them to account. Now, I suppose there 
is more wide-spread information on public matters in this 
country than in any other in the world, but what does it 
amount to after all ? A great many read the newspapers 
without passing any independent judgment on their state- 
ments, while those who really shape political opinions and 
action are but a small clique in each locality. 

This being so, it ought not to surprise us that men give 
but little attention to religion. If learning, business, poli- 
tics, things that touch our present interests so closely, can 
only to a superficial extent engage the thoughts of men, will 
religion, which relates chiefly to man's future welfare, be 
more successful? In one sense, Christianity is as old as the 
world ; for there has been a continuous testimony to the 
truth from the first, but it has never yet had a full hearing. 
How do men act about religion ? Some listen to its teach- 
ing only with their ears, as a busy man in his office listens 
to a jew's-harp or a hand-organ on the street. So Gallio lis- 
tened, who ''cared for none of these things." Some listen 
with their hearts, that is, with attention enough to awaken a 
passing emotion or sentiment. So Felix listened, when he 
trembled at St. Paul's preaching, and promised to hear him 
again at a more convenient season. Only a few listen with 
attentive ears and hearts and hands, the only true waj^ of 
listening, the way St. Paul listened, when he said, ^^Lord^ 
what wilt Thou have me to do .^""^ When 3^011 say, then, that 
Christianity has produced but partial results, you are but 
saying that men are frivolous and thoughtless, that there are 
many who do not listen to religion, or do not listen to it with 
earnestness and lay to heart its practical lessons. '' Wisdom 
j)reaeheth abroad ; she %dtereth her voice in the streets ; at 

♦ Acts ix. 6. 



THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL. 295 

the head of multitudes she crieth out ;^'^ but it is of no avail 
to the greater number, ^'hecause they have hated instruG- 
tion, and received not the fear of the Lord^'^'^ Moreover, 
our Lord foresaw that the success of His gospel would be 
but partial. We see this in the very passage from which the 
text is taken. There is something melancholy in the way 
the evangelist introduces the parable of the sower : '^And 
when a very great multitude was gathered together and has- 
tened out of the cities to hini^ He spoke hy a similitude : A 
sower went out to sow his seed^^ etc. This was the thought 
which the sight of a very great multitude pressing around 
Him awoke in the mind of our Lord : how small a part 
would really give heed to His words, or really appreciate 
them : how in some hearts the w^ord would be trodden down, 
in others be choked or wither away ; and this is the secret 
of the energy with which He cried out at the end of the 
parable, ^''He that hath ears to hear^ let him hearP The same 
thought comes out in the conversation which he had \fter- 
ward with His disciples, when they asked an explanation of 
the parable : '' The heart of this people is grown gross ; and 
with their ears they have heen dull of hearing^ and their eyes 
they have shut : lest at any time they should see with their 
eyes^ and hear with their ears^ and understand loith their 
hearty and should he converted^ and Ishoidd heal them. But 
hlessed are your eyes because they see^ and your ears because 
they hear.'''' \ 

Our Lord was as far as possible, then, from expecting that 
the course of things would stand still, and all men comply 
instantly with his preaching. Nor were His predictions 
respecting His Church such as to warrant more sanguine 
expectations of her success. In His charge to His disciples. 
He let them know what they were to expect : '' WJie7i you 
tome into a house salute it^ saying : Peace he to this house* 

* Proverbs L 20, 21, 29 \ St. Matt. xiii. 15, 16. 



296 THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL. 

And if that house he worthy^ your peace shall come upon it ; 
hut if it he not worthy^ your peace shall return to you. And 
when they shall persecute you in this city ^ flee into another?^ "* 
Nor were their trials to be altogether external, ^^And then 
shall many he scandalised^ and shall hetray one another^ and 
shall hate one another. And hecause iniquity hath abounded^ 
the charity of many shall wax cold^'' f 

When, then, you say, See ! in that country the Church 
has all but died out ; in that country faith is weak, and the 
most active minds in it are estranged from religion ; in that 
country scandals abound ; in that country there was a great 
apostasy; that other was fruitful in heresies: — I reply, you 
are only verifying our Lord's predictions; j^ou are only saj^-- 
ing what He said before the event. If religion has not ac- 
complished all that could be desired, it has at least done 
what it promised. • 

Nor is this all. Not only did our Lord foresee that many 
w^ould reject His grace, but He acquiesced in it. His wi3rk 
is not a failure, because He does not account it so. What 
though many refuse to listen ? They that will be saved, 
those of good will and honest hearts, they w^ill be saved, and 
that is enough. He saw of the travail of His soul, and was 
satisfied. Our Lord shed His blood for all men ; He willed 
seriously the salvation of all men ; but since all will not be 
saved. He is content to give it for those who will. He ''is 
the Saviour of all men, especially of the faithful?^ \ When 
He came to Jerusalem to die, looking at the cit)^ He wept 
to think how many were there who knew not the time of 
their visitation ; but that did not deter Him from marching 
on to Mount Calvary. When He foretold to St. Peter, be- 
fore His passion, all He was about to suffer, St. Peter, with 
mistaken affection, begged Him to spare Himself. '^Far be 
this from Thee." How much more would he have dissuaded 

♦ St Matt. X. 12, 13, 23. \ lb. xxiv. 10, 12. % 1 Tim. iv. 10. 



THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL. 297 

Dur Lord, if he could have foreseen in how many cases these 
labors and sufferings would have been fruitless. Would he 
not have said to Hiin, '^ O Lord! do not suffer so much, 
turn away thy face from the smiter, and thy mouth from 
gall. Do not crush Thy heart with cruel grief, or bathe Thy 
body in a sweat of agony. The very men for whom Thou 
diest will disbelieve Thee, or, believing, will disobey Thee." 

Can we doubt to what effect our Saviour would have an- 
swered ? '^ If I be lifted up I will draw all men to Me, and 
all will not resist Me. I shall see of the travail of My soul, 
and shall be satisfied." 

Or I can imagine that at the Last Supper, as our Lord 
was about to institute the Blessed Sacrament of His body 
and blood, the same warm-hearted disciple, laying his hand 
on his Master's arm, might have said, ''Do not do it! Thou 
thinkest they cannot withstand this proof of love. But, alas ! 
they will pass by unheeding. Tliou wilt remain on the 
altars of Thy churches night and day, but the multitude will 
not know Thee, or ask after Thee, and they that do know 
Thee will insult Thee in Thy very gifts, will treat Thee 
with disrespect, and receive Thee with dishonor." But our 
Lord gently disregards his remonstrance, and having loved 
His own who were in the world, loves them to the end, and 
for them is contented to make Himself a perpetual prisoner 
of love. Oh, my brethren, our statistics and our arithmetic 
are sadly at fault when we are dealing with divine things. 
When Abraham went to plead with Almighty God to spare 
Sodom, he began by asking as a great matter that the city 
might be spared if fifty just men were found in it, and the 
answer was prompt and free, " I will not do it for fifty's 
sake." Somewhat emboldened, he came down by degrees 
to ten, and received the same answer, but stopped there, 
thinking that he could make no further demand on the mercy 
of God. It is a thing we will never understand, how much 
God has the heart of a father. When news was bronglit to 
X3* 



298 THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL. 

the patriarch Jacob, that Joseph, his son, was yet living, all 
his woes and hardships were forgotten in a moment, and he 
said : It is enough. Joseph, my son, is yet alive." So, all the 
unkindness, disobedience, unbelief of men, are compensated 
to the heart of Christ by the fervor of His true children. His 
servants whom He hath chosen. His elect in whom His soul 
delighteth. Weary on the cross. His fainting eye sees their 
fidelity and their love, and His heart revives, and He says : 
" It is enough." Christ accounts the fruits of His redemp- 
tion great, and they are great. This is our temptation, to 
undervalue the good that is in the world. Evil is so obtru- 
sive, that we are but too apt to attribute to it a larger share 
in the world than it really holds. How much of good, then, 
has been and is in the world ? The Blessed Yirgin, the 
Queen of Heaven, the perfect fruit of Christ's redemption, 
once walked the earth, engaged in lowly, every- day duties, 
like any maid or mother among us. Moses and Elias and 
St. John the Baptist once lived our life here on the earth; 
and the hundred and forty-four thousand who sing a new 
song before the throne of God, and the great multitude that 
no man can number out of all people and kindreds and tribes 
and tongues, clothed in white and with palms in their hands. 
You talk of failure ! Why has not the sound of the gospel 
gone into all lands, and its words to the end of the world? 
. Have not empires owned its sway, and kings come bending 
to seek its blessings? Have not millions of martyrs loved it 
better than their lives? Has not the solitary place beeu 
made glad by the hymns of its anchorites, and the desert 
blossomed like a rose under their toil ? Is tliere a profession, 
or trade, or court, or country which lias not been sanctified 
by moral heroes who drew in their holy inspirations from its 
lessons? And who can tell us the amount of goodness in 
every-day life, to some extent necessarily hidden, but of 
which we catch such unearthly glimpses, and which ia tho 



THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF THS GOSPEL. 299 

practical fruit of its principles? The virtnous families, the 
upright transactions, the glorious sacrifices, tlie noble chari- 
ties, the restraint of passion, the interior purity, the patient 
perseverance ! Listen to the description which God Himself 
gives of the results of the gospel : 

" Who are these, that fly as clouds^ and as doves to their 
windows ? For the islands wait for me^ and the ships of 
the sea in the heginning ; that I'inayhring thy sons from 
afar y their silver and their gold with them^ to the name of 
the Lord thy God^ and to the Holy One of Israel^ hecause lie 
hath glorified thee. Iniquity shall no more he heard in thy 
land^ wasting nor destruction in thy borders / a7id salvation 
shall possess thy walls ^ and praise thy gates. Thy sun shall 
go down no more^ and thy moon shall not decrease : for the 
Lord shall he unto thee for an everlasting light^ and the days 
of thy mourning shall he ended. And thy people shall he all 
just / they shall inherit the land forever^ the hranch of my 
planting^ the work of my hand^ to glorify me. The least 
shall hecome a thousand^ and a little one a most strong nation, 
/, the Lord^ will suddenly do this thing in its timeP ^ 

Now, this is the Catholic Church, as God saw it in the future, 
and as He sees it now. These beautiful words are true in 
their measure, of every diocese, of every parish, in our day. 
To-day, as the Holy Church throughout the world flings open 
her doors and rings her bells, and the crowd press in, in cities, 
in villages, in country places, God recognizes thousands of 
his true worshippers, who worship Him in spirit and in truth. 
We see and know some of them, but only His all-seeing eye 
sees them all, and only His omniscience, which foreknows the 
number of those who shall be His by faith and good works, 
can measure the greatness of the harvest of souls which He 
will reap at the end of the vvorld. The Lord cometli with 
ten thousand of His saints. The Last Judgment is the vie- 

* Isai. Ix. 8, a 18, 20, 21, 22. 



300 THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL 

tory of Christ. Tlien again, SQiTOiinded by the fruit of His 
passion, He may repeat the words which He spoke at the 
close of His -earthly ministry : " I have glorified thee upon 
the earth. I have finished the work which thou gavest me 
to do. Those whom thou gavest me I have kept, and none 
of them hath perished except the son of perdition." * 

These thoughts point the way to two practical lessons, one 
relating to our duty to others, the other relating to our duty 
to ourselves. 

We see here the spirit in which we ought to labor for the 
conversion of others. There is certaifily a great deal of good 
to be done around us. How many in this country are out 
of the Ark of safety, the Catholic Church of Christ ! How 
many in her fold need our efforts and labors to make them 
better ! Why are we not more active in laboring for them ? 
We say it is of no use ; we have tried and failed. Those 
whose conversion we had most at heart seem farther off from 
the truth than ever. It is no use hoping for the conversion 
of those who are not Catholics ; they are too set in tlieir 
ways. Many of those Catholics, too, who were doing well as 
we hoped, have fallen off* again, and we are weary of laboring 
with so little success. Oh ! what a mean spirit this is ; how 
unlike the spirit of Christ ! How unlike the spirit of that 
apostle who made himself all things to all men that he might 
save some. You will put up with no failures. Christ and St. 
Paul were content to meet with many failures for the sake of 
some success. How unlike the spirit of St. Francis of Sales, 
who labored so hard during so many discouraging years, for 
the conversion of his misguided Swiss. Christ was rejected 
and crucified by those whom He came to teach. The apos- 
tles were despised and their names cast out as evil. And 
you will not labor because you cannot have immediate and 
full success. But some success you will meet with. You 

♦ St. John xviL 4, 12. 



THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL. 301 

» 

may not convert the one you desire to convert, but you will 
convert another. You may not succeed in the way or at the 
time you look for, but you will succeed in some other way 
and at some other time. There is nothing well done and 
charitably done for the truth that falls to the ground. God's 
word does not return to Him void, but accomplishes the thing 
whereunto He sent it. We labor, and other men enter into 
our labors. But the good work is done, and the fruits are 
garnered in heaven. Be of great hopes, then. You, my 
brethren of the priesthood, dare to undertake great things for 
the honor of our Lord and the extension of His kingdom. 
Use every means that prudence and charity can suggest to 
gain souls to Christ. In the morning sow your seed, and in 
the evening withhold not your hand. Labor in season and 
out of season. For Sion's sake hold not your hand, and for 
Jerusalem's sake do not rest, until her justice come forth as 
a brightness, and her salvation be lighted as a lamp ! And 
you, my brethren of the laity, labor each in your place, as far 
as may be given you, in the same work. Blessing must come 
from labor, and reward from Him who has promised that 
''they that instruct many to justice shall shine as stars for 
all eternity."^ 

The other lesson we learn is one which teaches us how to 
guide ourselves in a world of sin and scandal. It is no un- 
common thing for men to draw injury to their own souls from 
the disorders around them, by making them a pretext for 
neglecting their own salvation, or taking a low standard of 
duty. One says, there is a man who does not attend to his 
religious duties, and makes out of this an excuse for his own 
neglect. " What is that to thee ? Follow thou Me," is the 
answer of Christ. There is another who does go to the 
sacraments, but whose life is diseditying. He is profane, 
quarrelsome, untruthful, and artful. Perhaps he is guilty of 

* Dan. xii. 3. 



302 THE FAILURE AND SUCCESS OF THE GOSPEL. 

• 

worse sins than these. ''What is that to thee?" is agai:i tho 
answer : " Follow thou Me, My love, my life, my teaching is 
to be tlie rule of thy conduct, not the doctrines of others." 
Oh ! how this cuts the way open to a solution of that ques- 
tion with which we sometimes vex ourselves. Are there few 
or many that will be saved? There are few if few, many if 
many. Few if few hear and obey, many if many hear and 
obey. Wisdom crieth aloud, she uttereth her voice in the 
streets; he that hath ears to hear, let him hear. One hears, 
lays up and ponders in his heart, like Mary, what he hears, 
and becomes a saint. Another liear^ as one who lool.s in a 
glass and immediately forgets what he saw reflected in it. 
Here is the distinction which produces election and repro- 
bation, salvation and damnation. This is the practiciJ ques- 
tion for each one of us : To which of these classes do I belong ? 
This is the prayer which ought to be our daily petition : Give 
me, O Lord, an understanding heart, to know the things that 
belong to my peace, before they are forever hid from my 
eyes. How great the misery of passing through life slotliful, 
careless, inattentive, and so losing the heavenly wisdom we 
might learn ! How great the happiness of keeping the word 
in a good heart, and bringing forth fruit with patience ! 
Those who do this not only secure their salvation, but they 
console Christ for all His cruel sufferings, for they constitute 
the fruit of His Passion, the success of His Gospel, the crown 
of Glory which He receives from tho hand of His Father, the 
Royal Diadem which He wi21 wear for all eternity. 



THE V/Ci.K OF LIFSL 303 



SEKMON IX. 

THE WORK OF LIFE. 

(Septuagesiaia.) 

** Why stand ye here all the day idle." — St. Matt. XX. 6. 

The parable in to-day's Gospel is intended to describe the 
invitations which God has given, from time to time in the 
history of the world, to various races and peoples, to enter 
tlie true Church and be saved. But it may be applied by 
analogy to His dealings with each individual, soul, and our 
Lord's question in the text may be understood by each one of 
us as addressed directly to himself. Taken in this sense, it 
affords instruction and admonition, useful at all times, but 
more especially suitable on this day, when the Church first 
strikes the keynote of those stirring lessons of personal duty 
and accountability which are to be the burden of her teach- 
ings through the coming season of Lent. 

And, first, it reminds us of that solemn truth, that we have 
an appointed work to do on earth. It is difficult for us not 
to be sceptical sometimes on this point. Life is so short and 
uncertain, man is so frail and erring, that it seems strange 
the few years spent here on earth should exert any great in- 
fluence on our eternity. Some such feeling as this was at 
the bottom of the old idea of heathen philosophy that God 
Joes not concern Himself w^ith the affairs of men, that we 
and our doings are of too little consequence to occupy His 
attention. The book of Wisdom well expresses this creed : 
" For we are horn^ say they " (that is, the unbelieving), '' of 
nothing^ and after this we shall he as if we had not leen / and 
our life shall pass away as the trace of a cloudy and shall he 
dispersed as a mist, which is dri'^en away hy the heams of 
the sun, and overpowered hy the heat thereof And our 



304 THE WORK OF LIFE. 

name in time shall he forgotten : and no man shall have any 
remembrance of our worltsP "^ But such a view of life does 
not agree either with reason or revelation. God, being In- 
finite Wisdom, mast have an end in every thing which He 
created. If it was not beneath Him to create, it cannot be 
beneath Him to govern His creatures ; and reason and free 
will must have been given to His rational creatures to guide 
them to their end. It is absurd to suppose a moral and in- 
tellectual being without a law and a destiny. And revelati jU 
confirms this decision of reason. It seems as if the Bible 
were written, in great part, to dispel the notion that God is a 
mere abstraction, and to exhibit Him to us as a personal God, 
interfering in His creation, giving to each created thing its 
place, and taking note of its operation. In the pages of 
Scripture the world is not a chance world, where every thing 
is doubt and confusion ; but an orderly world, where every 
thing has its place. It is a vineyard, into w^hich laborers are 
Bent to gather the harvest. It is a house, in which each part 
has its order and use. It is a body, in which each member 
shares the common life, and contributes to it. It is a school, 
in which each scholar is learning a special lesson. It is a 
kingdom, in which citizen is bound to the other in relations 
of duty or authority. Yes, God has left a wide field for the 
free exercise of human choice and will. The pursuits of men, 
their studies, their pleasures, may be infinitely varied at their 
will; but not to have a mission from Heaven, not to have a 
work to do on earth, not to be created by God with a special 
vocation — this is not possible for man. He is too honorable 
and great. The image of God, which is traced on his soul, 
is too deep and enduring : his relation to God is too direct 
and immediate. No man can live unto himself, and no man 
can die unto himself. Each man that comes into the world 
is but an agent sent by God on a special embassy. And each 

* Wisdom ii. 2-4. 



THE WOKK OF LIFE. 305 

man that dies, but goes back to give an account o/ its per- 
formance. 

Do not accuse me of saddening and depressing you by tlius 
covering man's life, from tlie cradle to the grav^e, with the 
pall of accountability. If God were a tyrant, if He reaped 
where He did not sow, if He exacted what was beyond our 
strength, if His= service did not make us happy, if in His 
judgment of our actions He did not take into account the 
circumstances of each one, his opportunities, his ignorances, 
and even his frailties, then, indeed, the thought of our ac- 
countability would be a dreadful and depressing one. But 
while our Master and Judge is a God whose compassion is as 
great as His power, whose service is our highest satisfaction, 
who knows whereof we are made, and who in His judgment 
remembers mercy, the thought that each one of us has an ap- 
pointed work to do is not only an incentive to duty, but the 
secret of happiness. There is nothing pleasant in a life with- 
out responsibility. Rest, indeed, is pleasant, but rest implies 
labor that has gone before, and it is the labor that makes the 
rest sweet. " The sleep of a laboring man is sweet^^ says the 
Holy Scripture. But a life all rest, with nothing special to 
do, without aim, without obligation, is a life without honor 
and without peace. They who spend their time in rushing 
j5'om one amusement to another are commonly listless and 
wretched at heart, and seek only to forget in excitement the 
weariness and disappointment within. God has made the law, 
•^ In the sweat of thy face thou shalt eat bread," medicinal 
as well as vindicative. "When, then, you tell me that this 
world is not my all; that I have an immortal destiny, that 
life is a preparation for it ; that the infinite truth is mine to 
know, the infinite beauty mine to possess ; that I have a mis- 
sion to fulfil ; sin to conquer ; duties to perform ; merits to 
acquire ; an account to render ; you tell me that which indeed 
makes my conscience thrill with awe, but which, at the same 
time^ takes ^Vi the meanne'=^s, the emptiness^ the littleness out 



806 THE WORK OF LIFE. 

of life, covers it witli glory, blends it with heaven, expands 
the soul, and fills it with hope and joy. 

O truth too little known ! Religion is not m^ant to bo 
only a solace in afiliction, a help in temptation, a refuge 
when the world fails us. All these it is, but much more. It 
is the business and employment of life. It is the task for 
which we were boin. It is the w^ork for which our life i& 
prolonged • from day to day. It is the consecration of my 
whole being to Grod. It is to realize that wherever I am, 
whatever I do, I am the child of God, doing His will, and 
extending His kingdom on earth. This is the secret of life. 
This is the meaning of tlie world. This is God's w^ay of look- 
ing at the world. As He looks down from heaven, all other dis- 
tinctions among men vanish, distinctions of nationality, differ- 
ences of education, diiferences of station, and wealth, and influ- 
ence, and only one distinction remains — the distinction between 
the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God 
and him that serveth Him not. When we look at the w^orld, 
it dazzles us by its greatness, and overpowers us by its multi- 
plicity. It is so eager and restless. It is so importunate and over- 
bearing. Here is the secret which disenchants us from its spell. 
The world is not for itself. It is not its own end. It is but the 
field of human probation. It is but the theatre on which 
»nen are exercising each day their highest faculty, the power 
of free will. It is the scene of the great struggle between 
good and evil, between heaven and hell, the battle that be- 
gan when ''Michael and his angels fought with the dragon, 
and the dragon fought and his angels." '' Into this arena 
each generation has entered, one after another, to show their 
valor. Once the saints of whom we read in the Bible and 
the history of the Church were upon the earth, and it was 
their turn, and heaven and earth were warcuing tliem. They 
did their work well. So penetrated were they with the great 
thought of eternity that some of them, like Abraham, left 

♦ Apoc. xii. t 



THE WORK OF LIFE. 307 

home and kindred, and went out not knowing wli.'ther they 
went ; and others, like the martyrs, gave their hearts' blood 
for a sacrifice. And there were others who were not saints, 
for they were not called to deeds of heroism, but they were 
good men, who in simplicity of heart fulfilled each duty, and 
served God with clean hands and pure hearts. And penitents 
have come in their turn. Once they were unwise, and the 
world deceived them, and they followed their own will, but 
afterward they turned to God, and redeemed their former sins 
by a true penance, and died in the number of those who 
overcame the Wicked One. And now it is our turn. Tliero 
are many adversaries. All things are ready. The herald 
has called our name. And as the primitive martyrs, con- 
demned to the wild beasts in the amphitheatre, nerved them- 
selves for the encounter by the thought of the thousand spec 
tators ranged around, so to animate our courage let us give 
heed to the sympathizing witnesses who watch our strife, and 
who cry to us from heaven and from earth : Be valiant ! Do 
battle for the right ! Acquit you like men ! Be strong ! 

And again, as our Lord's words in the text remind ns that 
we have an appointed work to do, they remind us also that 
we have an allotted tim.e to do it in. All men acknowledge 
that religion is a thing to be attended to. But when ? Some 
seem to think that it is enouo-h to attend to reli«:ion at Eas- 
ter and Christmas, and that at other times it may be left 
alone. Some at still more distant intervals, when the time 
has been too long, and the number of sins too great, and the 
burden on the conscience too heavy. Others propose to at- 
tend to it in the leisure of old age, or just before they leave 
this world. And very many imagine that, if a man actually 
makes his peace with God at any time before he dies, there 
is not much to be regretted. How different is God's inten- 
tion in this matter ! ''Man goeth forth to his loorh and to 
his labor until the evening.^^ Think of a day-laborer. He 
rises very early in the morning, in the winter, long before it 



308 THE WORK OF LIFE. 

is light, and goes off to liis work. He works all day until 
the evening, pausing only at noon, when he seeks some hol- 
low in the rock, or the shelter of some overhanging shrub, to 
protect him from the cold or the heat, while he eats his fru- 
gal dinner. Now, it is after this pattern that God wishes us 
to work out our salvation. Tlie Christian should work from 
the morning till the evening, from the beginning of life to 
the end of it. There is not a day that God does not claim 
for his own. There is not an hour over which He has re- 
signed His sovereignty. A man who perfectly fulfils his 
duty begins to serve God early in the morning. In the morn- 
ing of life, in early youth, when the dewdrops sparkle in the 
sunshine, and the birds sing under the leaves, and the flow- 
ers are in their fresh bloom and fragrance, and every thing 
is full of keen enjoyment, there is a low, sweet voice that 
speaks to the soul of the happy boy : ^^My son^ give me thy 
TieartP And he heeds that voice. It is time for first com- 
munion, and he has leave to go. He does not know fully the 
meaning of the act. It is too great and deep. But he knows 
that he is making choice of God. He knows that God is 
very near him, and he is very happy. By and by the time 
has come for confirmation. The candidates stand before the 
bishop, and see, that l)oy is among the number. He is changed 
from what he was. He has grown to be a youth now. He 
is more thoughtful and reserved. He kno^vs now what temp- 
tation means ; lie lias seen the shadow of sin ; he has caught 
the tones of the world's song of pleasure ; but he does not 
waver ; he is bold and resolute for the right, and he is come 
to fortify himself for the conflict of life by the special grace 
of the Almighty. And now time goes on, and he passes 
through the most dangerous part of life: he is a young man, 
he goes into business, he marries. There are times of fierce 
temptation, there are times when the objects of faith seem 
all to fade away from his mind, there are times when it seems 
as if the only good was the enjoyment of this world, but 



THE WORK OF LIFE. 809 

prayer and vigilance and a fixed will carry him thiough, and 
he passes the most critical period of life without any griev- 
Qois stain on his soul. Thus passes the noonday of his life, 
and he comes to its decline. It draweth toward evening:. 
The shadows are getting long. The sun and the light and 
the moon are growing dark, and the clouds return after the 
rain. He is an old man and feeble, but there he is with the 
same heart he gave to God in youth ; he has never recalled 
the ofiering. He has been true to his faith, true to his prom- 
ises, true to his conscience, and at the hour of death he can 
sing his Nunc dimittis^ and go to the judgment seat of Christ 
humbly but confidently to claim the reward of a true and faith- 
ful servant. Beautiful picture ! Life to be envied ! A life spent 
with God, over which the devil has never had any real power. 
But you tell me this is a mere fancy picture ; no one lives 
such a life. I tell you tliis is the life God intended you and 
I should live. There have been men w^ho have lived such lives, 
though, indeed, they are not many. But the number is not 
so small of those who aj)proximate to it. Even suppose a 
man falls into mortal sin, and more than once, all is not lost. 
Suppose him, in some hour of temptation, to cast off his 
allegiance to God, and in his discouragement to look upon 
a life of virtue as a dream ; yet, if such a one gathers up his 
manhood, if in humble acknowledgment of his sin he returns 
with new courage to take his place in the Christian race, 
such a man recovers not only the friendship of God, but the 
merits of his past obedience. There is a process of restor- 
ation in grace as well as in nature. Penance* has power to 
heal the wounds and knit over the gaps which sin has made. 
What does the Holy Scripture say ? '^ I will restore to you 
the years which the locust^ and the canker-worm^ and the mil- 
deio^ and the palmer-worm hath eatenP"^ Many a man's 
life, which has not been without sin, has yet a character of 
continuity and a uniform tending toward God. I believe 

♦ Joel ii. 25. 



810 THE WORK OF LIFE. 

there are many who have this kind of perfection. They can- 
not say, " I have not sinned," for they have had bitter 
experience of their own frailty ; but they can say, ""I 
have sinned, but I have not made sin a law to me. 
I have not allowed myself in sin, or withdrawn myself 
from Thy obedience. I have not gone backward from 
Thee. I have fallen, but I have risen again. O Lord, Thou 
hast been my hope, even from my youth, from my youth un- 
til now, until old age and gray hairs." 

And now, my brethren, if w^e try pur past li\es and our 
present conduct by the thought of the work we have to do on 
earth and the persevering attention we ought to pay to it, do 
w^e not find matter for alarm? and does not our Lord's ques- 
tion convey to us the keenest reproacli ? ^'Why stand ye 
here all the day idle?" Yes, idle; that is the word. There 
is all the diiference in the world between committing a sin in 
the time of severe temptation, for which w^e are afterward 
heartily sorry, and doing nothing for our salvation.* And is 
not this our crime, that we are idlers and triflers in religion ? 
What have our past lives been ? What years spent in 
neglect, or even in sin ? What long periods of utter forget 
fulness of God ? What loss of time ? What excessive anxiety 
about this world ? What devotion to pleasure ? And are 
we now really doing any thing for heaven ? Are we really 
redeeming the past by a true penance ? Are we diligent in 
prayer, watchful against temptation, w^atchful of the com- 
pany we keep, w^atchful of the influence we exert, watchful 
over our tempers, watchful to fulfil our duties, watchful 
a":ainst habits of sin? Are we livino; the lives God intended 
US to live? Can we say, '^I am fulfilling the requirements 
of my conscience, in the standard which I propose to myself?" 
Ah! is not this our miserj^, that we have left off striving? 
that we are doing nothing, or at least nothing serious and 
worthy of our salvation ? '' Why stand ye all the day idle ?'* 
All the day. Time is going. Time that might have mado 



THE WORK OF LIFE. 3li 

as holy, timetliat has sanctified so many others* who set ou 
witli us in life, is gone, never to return. The future is uncer- 
tain ; how much of the day of life is left to us we know not 
And graces have been squandered. No doubt, as long as we 
live we shall have sufficient grace to turn to Gwd, if we will ; 
but we know not what we do, when we squander those 
special graces which God gives us now and then through 
life. The tender heart, the generous purpose that we had in 
youth ; the fervor of our first conversion ; the kind warn- 
ings and admonitions of friends long dead ; these have all 
passed away. Oh, what opportunities have w^e thrown away ! 
What means of grace misused ! " Why stand ye all the day 
idle ? " You cannot say, " No man hath hired us." God has 
not left you to the light of natural reason alone, to find out 
your destiny. In baptism He has plainly marked out for you 
your work. And now in reproachful tones He speaks to your 
conscience : " Creature of my hand, whom I made to serve 
and glorify me ; purchase of my blood, whom I bought to love 
me ; heir of heaven, for whose fidelity I have prepared an 
eternal reward, why is it that you resist my will, withstand 
your own conscience and reason, despise my blood, and 
throw away your own happiness?" 

Bat the words of Christ are not only a reproach, but an 
invitation. " Why stand ye here all the day idle?" It is not, 
then, too late. God does nothing in vain ; and when He 
calls us to His service. He pledges himself that the necessary 
graces shall not be wanting, nor the promised reward fail. 
Church history is full of beautiful instances of souls that, 
after long neglect, recovered themselves by a fervent 
penance. Some even, who are high in the Church's Calendar 
of Saints, had the neglect and sin of years upon their con- 
sciences when they began. There is only one unpardonable 
sin, and that is to put o& conversion until it is too late. As 
long as God calls, you can hearken and be saved. To-day, 
then^ once more He calls. To-day, once more the t] umpet- 



812 THE CHURCH'S ADMONITION 

blast of penance sounds in your ears. Another Lent is com* 
ing, a season of penance and prayer. Prepare yourself ioi 
that holy season by examination of your conscience. Refuse 
no longer to work in the Lord's vineyard. Offer no more 
excuses ; make no more delay. Work while it is called to- 
day, that when the evening comes, and the Lord gives to the 
laborers their hire, you may be found a faithful workman^ 
" that needeth not to be ashamed." 



SEEMON X. 

THE CHURCH'S ADMONITION TO THE INDIVIDUAL SOUL. 

(abh-wednesdat.) 
*' Take heed to thyself."— 1 Tim. iv. 16. 

The services of the Church to-day are very impressive. 
The matter of her teaching is not diiferent from usual. The 
shortness of life, the certainty of judgment, the necessity of 
faith and repentance, are more or less the topics of her teach- 
ing at all times of the year. But this teaching is ordinarily 
given to the assembled congregation, to crowds, to multi- 
tudes. But to-day she speaks to us as individuals. She 
summons us, one by one, young and old, and, as we kneel 
before her, slie says to us, w^hile she scatters dust on our 
foreheads, '' Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return." 
It is in this individual and personal character of her warning 
that I find its special significance and impressiveness. There 
is no mistaking w^hat she means. '^ Remember, O man, that 
thou art dust, and unto dust shalt thou return." She separ- 
ates each one of us from all others, and gives her message to 
him in particular. It is an emphatic mode of conveying St. 
Paul's admonition to St. Timothy: ''Take heed to thyself," 



TO TnE INDIVIDUAL SOUL. 313 

If we take only the sound of the words, it might seem that 
no such admonition was necessary. For, in one sense, men 
attend to themselves quite enough. But, in fact, there is 
more than one self in a man. There is the self that is made 
up of our passions, our failings and disgusts, our comforts 
and conveniences : this is the self that speaks so loudly in 
the heart, and obtrudes itself so disagreeably on others. 
This, when indulged, is what we call selfishness, and this it 
is which it is one main object of religion to repress. But 
there is another self in a man, his true and noble self, that 
self which makes him an individual being, which asserts 
itself most distinctly in that part of his soul where it comes 
into closest contact with God, namely, his conscience. And 
this self it is very possible for men to forget. A man may 
bo a priest and have the care of souls, and be employed in 
preaching and administering the sacraments, or he may be 
a bishop, and live an active life in governing his church, and 
yet he may forget himself in this sense. St. Timothy was a 
bishop, a sharer in apostolic character and apostolic gifts, 
and yet St. Paul did not think it unnecessary to give him 
the warning of the text. How must, then, a man forget 
himself whose occupation is more secular ? Tell me : those 
eager crowds one meets with in the streets, hurrying hither 
and thither, do you think each one of these realizes that in 
some sense there is no other in the world but God and he ? 
Or in a crowded church, on Sunday, when the preacher, in 
God's name, is enforcing this duty, or denouncing that vice, 
that woman sitting in ilie pew, that man standing in the 
aisle, does he, does she realize that the words are spoken to 
them individually, that it is a lesson they are to lay to heart — 
to practise ? No ! I must say what I think, that there are 
some who pass through life, from the cradle to the grave, 
almost without ever once fully awakening to their own self- 
consciousness ; to their own individual existence, apart from 
the world around them j aud their own individual relations tQ 



314 THE church's admonition 

God. A man may even practise his religion, may know a great 
deal about it, may talk about it, may listen to every word of the 
sermon in the church, may say his night prayers, may even go 
through some kind of a confession and communion, without 
fully awaking to these things. Paradoxical as it may seem, I 
believe that there are not a few men, who, of all persons in the 
world of whom they have any knowledge, are on terms ol 
the slightest and most distant acquaintance with themse^est 
And I will give you one proof that this is true. You 
know how troubled many men are in sickness, or on a sleep- 
less night, or in ti.^es of great calamity. Some persons ^are 
greatly troubled in a storm, when the thunder rolls over their 
heads, and the lightning flashes in their eyes. Now, of course, 
nervousness, physical causes, mental laws, and social con- 
siderations, may enter more or less into the production of this 
uneasiness, but is there not very often something deeper than 
any of these ? Is it not something that the man has done 
yesterday, or last week, or last year, and that he has never 
set right; some uDJust transaction, some evil deed, some act 
of gross neglect of duty, some miserable passion cherished, 
some impure words spoken, some cruelty or shrinking frora 
what is right, or falsehood, or mischief-making. It is not a 
matter of imagination. It is not fancy, but fact. He re- 
members but too well ; he knows when it was done, and all 
the consequences of it, every thing comes up distinctly. He 
shuts his eyes, but he cannot shut it out. You know the 
clock ticks all day long ; amid the various cares of the day 
you do not hear it, but oh, how distinct and loud it is at 
night when your ear catches it. Did you ever have an 
aching tooth, which you could just manage to bear during 
the excitement of the day, but which began to throb and 
become intolerable when all was still at night, and you ha"d 
gone to bed ? So the uneasiness I have denoted is a real 
pain of the soul, which we manage to keep down and forget, 
or deaden, during our seasons of business aixl enterprise, but 



TO THE INLZVIDUAL SOUL. 815 

in hours of loneliness and danger makes itself felt. And 
what does this show but that you do not attend to your real 
self; that there is some dark corner of your heart in which 
you fear to look. Yon keep the veil down, because you 
know there is a skeleton behind it, and you are afraid to 
look at it. And so you go through life, playing a pan, 
something that you are not, with smiles on your lips and 
honeyed words in your mouth, laughing and jesting, eating 
and drinking and sleeping, working and trading, going in 
and out, paying visits and receiving them, seeking admira- 
tion and flattering others, while all the while, deep down in 
your soul, there is that nameless something, that grief like 
lead in the bottom of your heart, that wound that you are 
afraid to probe, or to uncover, or even to acknowledge. 

And noWj it is this deceitful way in which men deal with 
themselves, this forgetfnlness of themselves, that makes death 
and judgment so terrible. Death brings out the individual- 
ity of the soul in the most distinct light. Every thing that 
hides us from ourselves shall then be removed, every veil 
and shred torn away, and only ourselves shall remain. A 
well-known writer has expressed this in a few short words : 
^' I shall die alone;" and the same thought is suggested 
by the language of the Gospel in reference to the end of 
the world : " Two men shall be in the field, one shall be 
taken and the other left. Two women shall be grinding at 
the mill, one shall be taken and" the other left." One shall 
be taken, and he shall be taken alone — out of all the sur- 
roundings which have enveloped him here like an atmos- 
phere, and into which he has been fitted like a long-worn 
gai'ment. When our first parents heard the voice of the 
Lord God calling to them in the garden after the fall, they 
hid themselves, and Adam said : " I was afraid, because I 
was naked, and I hid myself." So will it be when the soul 
stands before God in its nakedness, ashamed because of its 
guilty self-consciousnesse So it was with the rich man in our 



316 THE chukch's admonition 

Lord's parable. He lived like the multitude. He had four 
brothers, and they were all alike. They had heard the ser- 
mons of Moses and the Prophets, but little did they think it 
all concerned them. But at last one of them died, and then 
he woke up to himself. His life is all before him. " Thou in 
thy lifetime receivedst thy good things." That was the story 
of it. He sees it all now : he sees what a glutton, what a 
proud, hardhearted, avaricious man he had been ; he sees what 
a creature of sensuality and self-indulgence he is. Very d'.f- 
fcrent is his judgment of himself now, from what it was when, 
in his purple robes, he revelled in his* banqueting-hall, the 
air heavy with perfume, and the table flowing with silver 
and flowers, and the slaves bringing in tlie costly dishes, 
while Lazarus, the beggar, sat at his gates, full of sores, 
*and hungering for the crumbs that fell from his table. 
And so it will be with us : awakened to a full consciousness 
that our relations to God are the only reality. Stripped of 
all the circumstances that deceived and misled and blinded 
us here ; with conscience fully awakened, with all the conse- 
quences of sin open before me and all its guilt manifest; I 
shall be brought face to face with myself, with what I am, 
with what I have been, with what I have done, with my sins, 
and my self-will, and my pride. Yes, this is the real terror 
of death and judgment. We think its fearfulness will be in 
the frowning Judge, and the throne set amid thimder and 
lightnings. Oh, no ! the Judge does not frown, He is calm 
and serene. He sits radiant in beauty and grace. '' When 
these things begin to come to pass," says the evangelist, 
speaking of the signs of the end of the world, " then look 
up and lift up your heads, for your redemption draweth 
nigh." No ! Christ is not transported with anger. He is 
always the same ; but the way of His coming is difterent as 
they to whom He comes are different. The object is 
unchanged, but the medium through which we view it 
will be different. There shall be an apparition of terror to 



TO THE INDIVIDUAL SOUL 317 

the wicked, but it will not be Christ, it will be themselves. 
The face of Christ shall be a mirror in which each man 
shall see himself. Young man, after your career of vice and 
profligacy, you shall see yourself, the moral leper that yoii 
are. There the extortioner, the fraudulent merchant, shall 
see himself as he is, the unconvicted thief and robber ; there 
the unfaithful husband or wife shall see themselves branded 
with the mark that tells their shame. The proud woman 
shall see there the deep stains of her soul in all their black- 
ness, and her worldly, guilty heart, all laid bare. O sight of 
piercing anguish ! " O hills and mountains fall on us, and 
cover us, and hide us from the wrath of God and of the 
Lamb." But no, it is not from the w^rath of God and of the 
Lamb, that we need to be hidden, it is from ourselves. 
Which way I fly is hell, myself am hell. A lost destiny, an 
existence bestowed in vain. A life passed as a dream; 
capacities for happiness never used; graces refused; time 
gone; opportunity lost; not merely a law broken, a punish- 
ment inflicted ; but I, myself, with my supernatural grace 
and destiny — I, with all my lofty hopes and powers — I, 
ruined and crushed forever : that is the hopeless, boundless 
misery. This is the sore affliction of the guilty after death ; 
and it is the dread of this dismay that keeps thee trembling 
all thy life. But, on the other hand, for a man to face him- 
self, to excite himself to a consciousness of his own individ- 
uality, and to a fulfilment of his own personal obligation to 
God, is the way to a peaceful and happy life. The Scripture 
uses a notable expression when describing the return of the 
prodigal: "He came to himself;" and in our ordinary 
language, vrhen we wish to express the idea of a man's seri- 
ously reflecting on his destiny and duty, we say he enters into 
himself. These expressions are full of significance. They 
teach us that something is to be done that no one can do for 
us. Others can help us here, but earh one for himself must 
m&kehisown individual and personal election sure. Each must 



318 THE church's admonition 

go dcvvn into his own heart, search out a]l the dark corners^ 
repent of its sins, resist its passions, direct its aims and 
desires. It is not a work done in a day.. It is soraetime? a 
difficult work. There are times in which it pierces to the very 
quick of our sensitive being, but it is the real and only way 
to true peace. And oh ! it is true and living peace when the 
soul in its deepest centre is anchored to God ; when nothing 
is covered over, nothing kept from His sight. There may be 
imperfections, there may be sins and repentances, but there 
must be, when such a course is habitual, a true and growing 
peace. Do not look abroad, my brethreh, for your happiness. 
It is to be found in yourselves. Happy he who knows the 
meaning of that word : " My God and I." This is to walk 
with God like Abraham. Of this man the Almighty siiys, 
as he did of Jacob, '^I have known thee by thy name." His 
relations to God are not merely those general ones that grow 
out of creation and redemption : to him God is his life, his 
very being, the soul of his. Soul. 

To-day, my brethren, if I have led your thoughts in the 
direction I have wished, you see that each one of jou. has a 
great work to do, that he must do liimself. It will not do 
for you that you have had a pious mother or a good wife. It 
is not enough that some one around you, who lives near you, 
or sits near you in tlie church, is a good Clu'istian. It is not 
enougli that you are a Catholic, one of the vast body of be- 
lievers in the world. Religion is a personal, individual 
tiling. All other men in the world may stand or fall : that 
does not affect you. Each one of us has his own independent 
position before God. If you are one of a family,. if you live 
in a house with others, or work in a room with many com- 
panions, if you are one of a gang of laborers, or a clerk in 
an office where many others are employed, or a scholar in a 
school where there are many others of your age, there is a 
circle around you that separates you from each one of your 
ccjmpanions. If you were to die to-night, your sentence 



TO THE INDIVIDUA, SOUL. 319 

would be different from that of every other. It niiglit be 
eontrary to those of all the others. They might be friends of 
God, and you His only enemy. And the difference would l^e 
not from any outward cause, but from yourself. " I shall see 
God,^^ says the prophet, " whom I myself shall see^ and my 
eyes shall hehold and not another ^"^ And now, if your 
conscience tells you that there is something unsatisfactory in 
your character, something sinful in your conduct, it is for 
you to set it right, and to do it without delay. It is the first 
duty of Lent. The forty days of grace and penance are given 
for redeeming our sins and saiving our souls. What, then, 
should be each one's resolution ? I will enter into myself, 
not we will do this, or I will do it if my friend does, but /, 
myself^ I will enter into myself. I will ask myself what this 
^strange, mysterious life of mine in earnest means, and 
whether I am ta-day advancing to my destiny. I will break 
off my sins, and I will pray. It is in prayer that I shall 
understand my duty. It is in God that I shall find myself. 
The solemn words of the Church shall not be uttered in vain 
for me : " Thou art dust, and unto dust thou shalt return." 
How many have heard that warning and are now no more. 
The young have died, the old, the pious, the careless, the 
rich, and the poor, and each has gone to his own place, the 
place and portion fitted to his deeds and his character. Per- 
haps it will not be very long before these words will be verified 
in inc. The Mass shall be said for me, the holy water 
sprinkled over my lifeless form. What shall it then profit 
me what others have said in my favor or against me? 1 
shall be sh?iply what I am before God. " What shall it 
profit a man to gain the whole icorld and lose his own soul .^" 
^' I shall see God^ whom I myself shall see^ and my eyes shall 
hehold and itot anotherP 

* Jobxix. 27. 

Note. — This appears to be the ]ast sermon which F. Baker wrote. It was 
preached on the evening of the Ash-Wednesday before his death, us the tirst of 
the Lenten Course of Sermons. 



320 THE NEGLIGENT CHRISTLAA'. 



SERMON XI. 

THE NEGLIGENT CHRISTIAN. 

(THIBD SUNDAY IN LENT.) 

" He that is not with Me is against Me ; and he that gathereth not with Me, 
scattereth."— St. Luke xi. 23. 

There are many seeds planted in the ground that never 
come lip. There is a great deal of fruit on the trees that 
never comes to ripeness. So among Christians there is a 
great deal of good that always remains incomplete and in- 
adequate. Who of us has not seen such ? AVho of us does 
not know such? They have some faith, some religion, but 
they bring no fruit to perfection. Now, what is the blight 
that destroj^s all their goodness? It is sloth, negligence, 
tepidity, call it what you will. Religion influences them, 
but does not control them. They do not reject it, but they 
do not obey it, at least consistently and in principle. They 
are languid Christians. They are not the w^orst, but they 
are not good. They seek with eagerness the pleasures of 
the world, and make no conscience of avoiding smaller sins, 
even when wilful and deliberate. They neglect the means 
of grace, prayer, sermons, and sacraments, with but little 
scruple, or approach them carelessly. They allow themselves 
a close familiarity with evil, dally with temptation, and now 
and then fall into mortal sin. So they go through life, con- 
scious that they are living an unsatisfactory life, but making 
no vigorous efforts to better it. It is of such meii that I 
would speak this morning ; and I propose to show hew dis- 
pleasing this negligence of our salvation is to God, and how 
dangerous it is to ourselves. 

The negligent Christian displeases God because he does 



THE NEGLIGENT CHKISTTAN 321 

not fulfil the end for whicli he was created. What is the 
end for which God created us? Certainly it is not for our- 
selves, for before God created us we were not, and could not 
have been the end for which He made us. He must have 
made us for Himself, for His glory. Yes, this is the end 
for which He does every thing, for Himself. From the very 
fact that we are created, our end must be to love and serve 
God. We are bound, then, to love and serve God, and we 
are bound to do it with perfectioTi and alacrity. What kind 
of creature is that which renders to God a reluctant and 
imperfect service? Suppose a king were to appoint a day 
to receive the homage of his subjects, and while he was hold- 
ing his court, and one after another was coming forward to 
kiss his hand or bend the knee, some one, ill-attired, and with 
slovenly demeanor, should approach and offer a heedless 
reverence. Would it not be taken as an act of contempt 
and an offence? ]^ow, God is our King, and He holds a 
levee every morning and invites the creation to renew its 
homage. The world puts on its best array. The sun comes 
forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a 
giant to run his course. The mountains and hills clothe 
themselves in blue, and the trees put on their robes of green. 
The birds sing, and the waters move and sparkle. Holy and 
humble men of heart rise from their beds to enter on their 
daily course of duty and of prayer, while within the veil the 
spirits of the just and the ten thousand times ten thousand 
angels bow before the Throne of Him that lives forever. 
And now" in this great Act of Praise, this ceaseless sacrifice 
that creation is offering to its Maker, there comes in the 
negligent Christian, cold, distracted, and unprepared to take 
his part. He does not kneel down to pray. He goes to work 
without a blessing. He does not think of God. Nay, in 
His very presence says and does unseemly things. Oh ! is 
he not a blot on the scene ? Is not his presence an offence ? 
In the Old Testament, God complains of the Jewish priesta 



322 THE NEGLIGENT CHBISTIAN. 

because they bronglit to Him the halt and the blind and the 
feick for sacrifice. He says : " Offer it now to thy prince, 
will he be pleased with it, or will he regard thy face ?" ^ 
So in like manner^ negligent Christian, God complains of 
you. Yon bring to Him a ''lame sacrifice," those feet of 
thine that stumble so often in the w^ay of justice ; a " blind " 
and " sick sacrifice," that heart of thine, so fond of the world 
and so weak in the love of God. 

Yes, God requires of us all fervor and perfection — of each 
one of us. It is a great mistake to suppose that perfection 
is required only of priests or religious ; it is required of every 
one. We are not all required to seek parfection in the same 
way. The married seek it in one way, the unmarried in an- 
other. The man of business seeks it one way, the recluse in 
another. But every one is required to seek it in such way 
as accords with his state in life. " That is a faithful serv- 
ant," says St. Gregory, " who preserves every day, to the end 
of his life, an inexhaustible fervor, and who never ceases to 
add fire to fire, ardor to ardor, desire to desire, and zeal to 
zeal." Our own hearts tell us this when they are really un- 
der the influence of the Spirit of God. Take a man at his 
first conversion, either to the faith or to a good life, and how 
fervent he is ! It is not enough for him to come to Mass al- 
ways on a Sunday, he will come now and then on a week- 
day. It is not enough for him to keep from what is sinful, 
he will not allow himself all that is innocent. He does not 
think of bargaining with God. This is his thought — that 
God is All, and he is a creature, and that God deserves his 
best, his all. By-and-by, alas ! as he becomes unfaithful, 
another spirit comes over him. He asks : " Is this binding 
under mortal sin ? That duty is irksome ; is it a great mat- 
ter if I omit it now and then?" God tells us w^hat he 
thinks of such a man in the parable of the Talents. When 

♦ Mai. I 8. 



THE NEGLIGENT CHRISTIAN*. 323 

the Lord came to reckon witli his servants, he i at had re- 
ceived one talent came and said, '^Lord^ 1 hioic that tliou art 
a hard man; thou reajpest where thou hast not sown^ and' 
gatherest where thou hast not strewed. And heing afraid^ I 
went and hid thy talent in the earth!'^ And his Lord in answer 
Baid to him : " Thou wicked and slothful servant ! thou Jcnew- 
est thai 1 reajp where I sow not and gather where I have not 
strewed. Thou oughtest therefore to have committed my money 
to the lanlcerSj and at my coming I should have received my 
ovm with usury. Cast ye the unjyrofitable servant into exte- 
rior darknessP ^ 

Again, if fervor in our duties is due to God as our Crea- 
tor, it is none the less due to Christ as our Eedeemer. Oh, 
how strong are the words of St. Paul : ^^The love of Christ 
jpresseth usj judging this^ that if one died for all^ then were 
all dead. And Christ died for all^ that they also that live 
may not now live to themselves hut to Him who died for . 
themu^'\ You see what his idea was — that the love of Christ 
was a debt that could never be paid, that it was a claim on 
us that pressed continually, and was never satisfied. And 
surelv it is so. When we think at all, we must all acknowl- 
edge that it is so. "Who is Christ ? the Son of God, the 
Splendor of His Father's Glory, and the Image of His Sub- 
stance. Who are we ? lost sinners. And for us '' He did not 
abhor the Virgin's womb." He did not refuse " to bear our 
infi.rmities, and carry our sorrows." He gave His body to 
the smiters, and turned not away from those that rebuked 
Him and spat upon Him. He gave His blood a ransom for 
many, and laid down His life for sin. Was there ever love 
like this? While gratitude lives among men, what shall be 
the return given to Christ by those whom He has redeemed ? 
Is the return Ave are actually making sucb as He deserves ? 
Was it for this that He died, that we should not commit 

* St Matt. XXV. 24. f II. Cor. v. 14. 



324 THE NEGLIGENT CHRISTIAN. 

quite so many mortal sins ? Was it for this that He hung on 
the cross, that only now and then we should omit some im- 
portant duty? Was it for this that He sweat those great 
drops of blood, that we should live a slothful and irreligous 
life ? O my brethren, when I see how m^n are living ; when 
Hook at some Christians, and see how when Easter comes 
round it is an even chance whether they go to their duties or 
not; when I see them on Sunday stay away from Mass so 
lightly, or listen to the word of God so carelessly ; when I 
see them omit most important duties toward their families ; 
when I see how freely they expose themselves to temptation, 
and how easily they yield to it; when I see how slow they 
are to prayer, how cold, sluggish, sensual and worldly they 
are ; above all, when I hear them give for an answer, when 
they are questioned about these things, so indifferently, " I 
neglected it,'' I ask myself. Did these men ever hear of Christ ? 
Do they know in whose name they are baptized ? Did they 
ever look at a crucifix, or read the story of the Passion ? 
Alas ! yes, they have seen and heard and read, and have 
taken their side, if not with Judas in his deceitful kiss, or 
the soldiers in their mockery, with the crowd of careless men 
who passed by, regardless and hard-hearted. But let these men 
know that their Saviour sees and resents their neglect. "Be- 
cause thou art lukewarm,'' He says, ''and neither cold nor 
hot, I will legin to vomit thee out of my mouth," ^^ His soul 
loathes the slothful and half-hearted. Yes, slothful Chris- 
tian, far different will be the estimate thou wilt make of thy 
life when thou comest to die, from wliat thou makest now. 
Then that negligence of thine, of which tliou makest so little, 
will seem the crime it really is; and bitter will be the ac- 
count thou shalt render of it to Christ thy Judge. 

But if it be not enough to rouse us from our torpor, to think 
that we are offending God, let us reflect how great is the 

* Apoc. iii. 16. 



THE NEGLIGENT CHRISTIAN. 325 

danger wliicli we are bringing on our own souls. A negligent 
Christian is in very great danger of being lost. T said just 
now that he falls into mortal sins now and then. It is hardly 
possible it should be otherwise. One will certainly fall 
into mortal sin if he does not take pains to avoid it. We all 
have within us concupiscence, or a tendency to love the 
creature with a disordered love, and this tendency is much 
increased in most men by actual sins of their past lives . Now, 
this principle acts as a weight on the will, always dragging it 
down to the earth. Fervent men make allowance for this. 
They aim higher than it is necessary to reach. They leave a 
margin for failures, weakness, and surprise. They build out- 
works to guard the approaches to the citadel. But with the 
negligent Christian it is the contrary of all this. Unreflecting, 
unguarded, unfortified by prayer, in his own weakness, and 
with his strong bent to evil, he must meet the immediate and 
direct temptations to mortal sin which befd him in his daily 
life. Is not his fall certain ? Not to speak of very strong 
temptations which can only be overcome by a special grace, 
which grace God has not promised to grant except to the 
faithful soul — even ordinary temptations are too much for 
such a man. He falls into mortal sin almost without 
resistance. 

And what is also to be taken into the account is, that the 
difierence between mortal and venial sin is often a mere 
question of more or less. So much is a mortal sin : so much 
is not. The line is often very difficult, nay, impossible to be 
drawn, even by a theologian. Now, who can tell us in prac- 
tice when we have arrived at the limit of venial sin, when 
we have passed beyond it and are in mortal sin ? Will not a 
careless, thoughtless man, such as I have described, will he 
not be certain sometimes to go over the fatal line ? Yes, my 
brethren, negligent Christians commit mortal sins. They 
commit mortal sins almost without knowing it. They com- 
mit mortal sins oftener than they imagine. Without 



Si& THE NEGLIGENT CHRISTIAN. 

opposing religion, without abandoning themselves to a repro- 
bate life, just by neglecting God and their duties, they fall 
into grievous sins; bad habits niultiply upon them apace, 
their passions grow stronger, grace grows weaker, their good 
resolutions less frequent and less hopeful, until they are near 
to spiritual ruin. The wise man gives us in a striking pic- 
ture the description of such a soul: "I passed hy the field 
of the slothful man and hy the vineyard of the foolish man : 
And hehold^ it was all filled with nettles^ and thorns had 
covered the face thereof : and the stone wall was hrolcen 
down^ which when I had seen^ T laid it up in my hearty and 
hy the example I received instruction. Thou will sleep a 
little^ said I : thou will slumhera little : thou will fold thy 
hands a little to rest : And poverty shall come upon thee as 
one that runneth^ and want as an armed mun^^ 

And what is to secure you from dying in such a state ? 
Our Lord says, " If the master of the house had known hi 
what hour the thief woidd corne^ he would have 'ivatched^ 
and would not have suffered his house to he hroken openJ^'[ 

But he knew not, and so in the dead of night, when deep 
sleep falleth on man, the thief came. And so it is with death. 
It comes like a thief in the nio-ht. Death is almost alwaY3 
sudden. Sometimes it comes without any warning at all. A 
man is sent into eternity in a moment, without time to utter 
a prayer. Sometimes it comes after sickness, but sickness 
does not always prepare for death. The sick man says : " Oh, 
it is nothing; I shall soon be well." His friends say the same. 
If he gets worse the priest is sent for ; he would like to 
receive the sacraments. But too often he has not yet looked 
Death in the face, he has not heard the dreadful truths he 
has to tell, he is nmch as he was in life, slothful and negli- 
gent. And after the priest is gone, when he is alone, at mid- 
night, that coroes to pass of which he has thought so little; 

♦ Proverbs xxiv. 30. f Matt. xxiv. 43. 



THE NEGLIGENT CHRISTIAN. 327 

Death enters the room, and with his icy hand unlocks the 
prison of the body, whispering to the soul with awful voice, 
" Arise, and come . to judgment." O my Lrethren, how 
dreadful, if at that hour you find yourself unready! If like 
the foolish virgins you are forced to cry : " Our lamps are 
gone out." " Cursed is he that doeth the work of the Lord 
negligently ^^^ saith the Holy Scripture. The work of the 
Lord is the work of our salvation. That is tlie work of our 
life, the work for which we are created, and he, who 
through negligence leaves this work undone, shall hear at 
the last that dreadful sentence : " Depart ye cursed." 

We come back, then, to this truth, that the only way to 
secure our salvation is to be not slothful in that business, but 
fervent in spirit, serving the Lord. Salvation is a serious 
work. We are not sufiiciently aware of this. We seem 
somehow to have got in the belief that the way of life is not 
strait, and the gate not narrow. Certainly we feel very difter- 
ently about our salvation from what oar fathers in the Cath- 
olic Church felt. How many have gone out into the desert 
and denied themselves rest and food, and scourged themselves 
to blood ! How many have devoted themselves to perpetual 
silence ! How many have willingly given up wealth and 
friends and kindred! How many, even their own lives.! 
Will you tell me they were but seeking a more perfect life ? 
they were but following the counsels of perfection, which a 
man is free to embrace or decline ? I tell you they were seek- 
ing their salvation. They were afraid of the judgment to 
come, and were trying to prepare for it. " Whatever I do," 
says St. Jerome, '^ I always hear the dreadful sound of the 
last trumpet: 'Arise, ^^ dead, and come to judgment.'" 
Now, can salvation be a w^ork so serious to them and so triv- 
ial for us? Grant that you are not bound to do precisely 
what they did, are you at liberty to do nothing ? If you are 

* Jer. slvili. 10. 



^ 



328 THE NEGLIGENT CHRISTIAN. 

not bound to a perpetual fast, are you at liberty to darken 
your mind and inflame your passions by immoderate drink- 
ing ? If you are not required to walk with downcast eyes 
and to observe perpetual silence, are you free to gaze on every 
dangerous object, and to speak words of profanity, falsehood, 
impurity, or slander ? If you are not required to flee from 
your homes, are you not required to forsake the occasions of 
sin ? If you are not called to forego all innocent pleasures, 
are you exempt from every sort of self-denial ? If no rule 
obliges you to spend the night in prayer, are you not obliged 
to praj^ often ? Yes, it was the desire td place their salvation 
in security that led our fathers into the desert. Surely, we 
have to work out our salvation with fear and trembling, who 
remain behind in a world which they left as too dangerous, 
and have to contend with passions which they felt wellnigh 
too strong for them. We must be what they were. " The 
time is short : it remaineth that they vjho have wives he as 
those who have not ; and they icho weep as they who iceej? 
not / and they who rejoice as they who rejoice not / and tJiey 
who huy as they who possess not ^ and they who use this 
world as if they used it not; for the figure of this loorld 
passeth awayP ^ 

My brethren, then be earnest in the work of your salvation. 
While we have time let us do good, and abound in the work 
of the Lord. Serve the Lord with a perfect heart. He de- 
serves our very best. Our own happiness, too, will be secured 
by it, for He says: '^ TaTce my yoJce upon you^ and learn of 
me^ and you shall find rest to your soids.^^-f And to the fer- 
vent : " An entrance shall he ministered ahundantly into the 
everlasting Tcingdom of Jesxis Christ^X This is my desire 
for you, to see you fervent Christians. I would like to know 
that you are anxious to assist at the Holy Mass on week-days 
as well as on Sundays. I would like to know that you pray 

♦ I. Cor. Yii. 29^ 30. f Matt. xi. 29. \ II. Pet. i. 11, 



THE CROSS, TILE MEASURE OF SIN. 329 

morning and evening. I would like to believe that you 
epeak with God often as the day goes on. I would like to 
know that you are watchful over your lips for fear of giving 
offence with your tongue; that you are prompt to reject the 
first temptations to evil ; that you are exact in the fulfil- 
ment of your duties ; that you are careful in confession^ and 
devout at communion — in a word, that you are liv^ing a life 
of watchfulness against the coming of Christ to judgment. 
This includes all. This is what our Saviour enjoined on us: 
'' Take heed ; vxitch and^y^'cci/ ; for yon know not ichen the 
Lord of the house coineth : at even^ or at midnight^ or at cock- 
crowing^ or in the morning. Lest coming of a sudden^ He 
find yon sleejpingP ^ 



SERMON XII. 

THE CROSS, THE MEASURE OF SIH. 

(passion SUNDAY.) 

"For my thoughts are not as your thoughts ; nor your ways my ways, saith 
the Lord. For as the heavens are exalted above the earth, so are my ways ex- 
alted above your ways, and my thoughts above your thoughts." — ISA. ly., 8, 9. 

To-DAY, my brethren, is the beginning of Passion-tide, the 
most solemn part of the season of Lent. The two weeks be- 
tween now and Easter are set apart especially for the remem- 
brance of the sufferings of Christ. Therefore the Church 
assumes the most sombre apparel, and speaks in the saddest 
tone. The actual recital of the Passion, the following of our 
Blessed Saviour step by step in His career of woe, she re- 
serv^es for the last three days of this sorrowful fortnight. In 
this, the earlier part of it, her aim is rather to suggest some 

* St Mark xiii. 35. 



330 THE CROSS, THE MEASURE OF SIN. 

thouglits wliicli lead the way to Calvary, and prepare tlie 
inind for tlie great event that happened there. I shall then 
bo saying wliat is suitable to the season, and at the same 
time directing your minds to what I regard as one of the 
most useful reflections connected with this subject, by asking 
yon this morning to consider the sufferings of Christ as a 
revelation of the evil of sin. 

But, it may be asked, does man need a revelation on this 
point? Is not the natnral reason and the natural conscience 
sufficient to tell us that sin is wrong ? Undoubtedly a man 
naturally knows that sin is an evil, and without this knowl- 
edge, indeed, he would be incapable of committing sin, since 
'n any action a man is only guilty of the evil which his con- 
science apprehends. But this natural perception of sin is 
more or less confused and indistinct. Our Saviour on the 
cross prayed for His murderers in these w^ords: "Father, 
forgive them ; for they know^ not what they do." He did not 
mean that they w^ere ignorant that they were doing wrong, 
ibr then they could have needed no forgiveness, but that they 
did not realize the full atrocity of the deed. They were act* 
ing guiltily indeed, but inadvertently and blindly. And the 
same may be said of very many sinners. Sin is tor the most 
part a leap in the dark. A man knows he is doing a danger- 
ous thing, but he does not realize the full danger. He does 
not take in the full scope of his action, nor its complete con- 
sequences. St. Paul speaks of the deceitfulness of sin, and 
the expression describes very w^ell the source of that disap- 
pointment and unhappiness which often overtakes the trans- 
gressor w^hen he finds himself involved in difficulties from 
which it is all but impossible to extricate himself, and sorrows 
which he never anticipated. It is the old story. Sin "i^- 
(jinneth jyleasanily^ Jjnt m the end it will Vite lihe a snalce and 
will sjpread ahroad jpoison like a serpent?^ '^ Oh ! how many 

» Prov. xxiii. 31, 32. 



THE CROSS, THE MEASURE OF SIN. 831 

are there who are finding this true in their own experience 
every day. 

Tell me, my brethren, do yon think that yonng persons 
wliO contract habits of sin that undermine their health know 
all they are bringing on themselves — the weakness of body, 
the feebleness of mind, the early decay, the shame, the re- 
morse, the impotence of will, the tyranny of passion, the bro- 
ken vows and resolutions, the hopelessness, the fear — ^perhaps 
the premature disease and dentli ? ISTo, all this was not in 
their tlioughts at first. These are the bitter lessons which 
the youth has learned in the school of sin. He has not found 
out what he was doing till it was all but too late. Or that 
married woman w^ho has stepped aside from the path of virtue, 
did she realize what she was doing ? Did she think of the 
plighted faith broken ; did she think of the horrible guilt of 
the adulteress, of the agony, the remorse, the deceit, the 
falsehood, the trembling fear of her whole future life ; did 
she realize the moment when her guilt would be detected, 
the fury of her wTonged husband, her family dishonored, her 
childi^en torn from her embrace, her name infamous, herself 
forlorn and ruined ? Oh, no ! these things she did not real- 
ize. There was indeed, on the day when she committed the 
dreadful crime, a dark and fearful form in her path, that 
raised its hands in warning, and frowned a frown of dreadful 
menace. It was the awful form of conscience, but she turned 
away from the sight, and shut her ear to the words, and 
heard not half the message. And so the dreadful conse- 
quences of her sin have come upon her almost as if there had 
been no warning. Or that drunkard, when he was a handsome 
young man, with a bright eye and a light step, and was neatly 
dressed, and was succeeding in his business ; when he first 
began to tipple, did he realize that he would soon be a 
diseased, bloated, dirty vagabond; that his children would 
be half naked, and his wife half starved ; or that he would 
spend the last cent in his poclvct, or the last rag on his back, 



332 THE CROSS, THE MEASURE OP SIN. 

in the vain effort to allay that thirst for drink which is 
almost as unquenchable as the fire of hell ? No, he little 
foresaw it, and if it had been told him, he would have saia 
with Hasael, the Syrian captain, when Elisha showed him 
the abominations he was about to commit, " What, am I a 
dog, that I should do such things ?" Or that thief, when he 
yielded to the glittering temptation, and made himself rich 
for a while with dishonest riches, did he then see before him 
the deeper poverty that was to follow ; the loss of all that 
makes a man's heart glow and his life happy : the lies that 
he must tell, the subterfuges he must resort to, the horrible 
detection, the loss of situation, the public trial, the imprison- 
ment ? No. Of course these were all daily in his thoughts, 
for they were part of the risk he knew he was running ; but 
BO little did he bring them home to himself, and the suffering 
he was to endure, that when they came it seemed almost 
hard, as if a wholly unlooked-for calamity had overtaken 
him. So it is. Wherever we look it is the same thing. 
Men imagine sin to be a less evil than it really is. It is so 
easy to commit it, it is so soon done, the temptation so 
strong, that it does not seem as if such very bad consequences 
would come of it. So it is done, and the bitter consequences 
come. It seems as if the lie that Satan told to Eve in the 
garden, when he tempted her to eat the forbidden fruit, 
" Thou shalt not surely die," still echoes through the world 
and bewitches men's ears so that they always underrate the 
guilt and punishment of sin; and although the lie has 
been exposed a thousand times, although in their own bitter 
experience men find its falsehood, yet they do not grow wiser, 
they still go on thoughtless, insensible to their greatest dan- 
ger and their greatest evil, and when they stand on the shore 
of time, and hear God threatening eternal punishment here- 
after to the sinner, they still set aside the warning with the 
same fatal insensibility. If they are nr'^ Catholics, they deny 



THE CROSS, THE MEASURE OF SIN. S33 

or doubt the existence of hell ; if they are Catholics, they 
think somehow they will escape it. 

Oh, my brethren, before you allow yourselves to act on 
this estimate of sin, so prevalent in the world, ask yourselves 
how it accords with God's estimate of sin. That is the true 
standard. God is Truth. He sees things as they are, and 
every thing is just what He considers it. He is our Judge, 
and it will not save us when we stand on trial at His bar to 
tell Him that we have rejected His standard and taken our 
own. What, then, is God's estimate of sin ? Look at the 
Cross, and you have the answer. Let me for a moment 
carry you back to the scene and time of the Crucifixion. 
It is the eve of a great festival in the city of Jerusalem. It 
is the Parasceve, or Preparation of the Passover. On this 
day the Jews were required, each family by itself, to kill a 
lamb and eat it with unleavened bread and bitter herbs. 
They were required to eat it standijig, with loins girded, and 
with staves in their hands, because this feast wjis in memory 
of the sudden deliverance of their fathers from the bond- 
age of Egypt, when God smote the first-born of the 
Egyptians with death, passed over the houses of the 
Israelites, and conducted them miraculously through the 
waters of the Red Sea. It was a great feast among the 
Jews, and always collected together a great multitude of 
strangers in the holy city. But on this occasion a new ex- 
citement was added to the interest of the holy city, for there 
was a public execution on Mount Calvary, and turbaned 
priests, and Pharisees with broad fringes on their garments, 
and scribes and doctors of the law, mingled in the throng 
of mechanics and laborers, and women and children, who 
hastened to the spot. The day is dark, but as you draw 
near the Mount, you see, Ijigh up in the air, the bodies of men 
crucified ; and sitting on the ground, or standing in groups, 
tallrlng and disputing among themselves, or watching in 



834 THE CROSS THE MEASURE OF SIN. 

Eilence with folded arms, are gathered a vast mull/tiide of 
Bpectators. 

What is there in this execution thus to gather together all 
classes of the people ? The punishment of crucifixion was 
inflicted only on slaves or malefactors of the worst kind, and 
two of the three that are hanging there are vulgar and in- 
famous offenders. .What is it, then, that gives such interest 
to this scene ? It is He who hangs upon that cross, at whose 
feet three sorrowing women kneel. Read the title, it wdll 
tell you who He is. '' This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.'' 
Yes, this is Jesus, the merciful and kind : He who went about 
doing good, healing all manner of sickness, and delivering all 
that were possessed with the devil ; He who spoke words 
of truth and love. This is Jesus, the King of the Jews, 
whom a thousand prophecies fulfilled in him and a thou- 
sand miracles performed by Him pointed out as the promised 
Messias : Jesus, whom the Eternal Father, by a voice from 
heaven, had acknowledged as His own Son. " This is my 
beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." Why is this? 
Why is it that the just man perisheth? The apostle tells 
us : '' Christ must needs have suffered." He was the true 
Paschal Lamb that*must die that we mio-ht o^o free. He was 
the victim of our sins. Pilate and Herod and the Jews were 
but the instruments by which all the consequences of our sins 
fell upon Him who came to bear them. '' Surely He hath 
home our infirmities and carried our sorrows y and we have 
thought Tlim^ as it were^ a leper^ and as one struch hy God 
and affiicted. But he was wounded for our iniquities^ He 
VMS hruisedfor our sins. The chastisement of our peace loas 
upon Him^ and by His hruises we are hea.ed. All we like 
sheep have gone astray^ every one hath turned aside into his 
own way^ and the Lord hatli laid on him the iniquity of us 
ifllP ^ Yes, every sin of every kind received its special 

* Isia. liii. 4, 5, 6. 



THE CROSS THE MEASURE OF SIN. 335 

reparation in the sufferings of Christ. His mouth is filled 
with vinegar and gall to atone for our luxury. His ear 
is filled with revilings to expiate the greediness with which 
we have drunk in poisonous flattery. His eyes languish 
because ours have been lofty, and His hands and feet are 
pierced with nails because ours have been the instruments of 
Bin. He suflered death because we deserved it. He was 
accursed, because we had made ourselves liable to the curse 
of God, and hell had its hour of triumph over Hizn, because 
we had made ourselves its children. Nor was it our Lord^s 
body alone that suffered. It would be a great mistake to 
suppose that His sacrifice was merely external. The chief 
part of man is his soul. St. Leo says that our Lord on the 
cross appeared as a penitent. It was not only that He suf- 
fered for the sins of men, but it was as if He had committed 
them. The horror of them filled His soul ; sorrow for the 
outrage they Iiad done to the Majesty and Holiness of God 
consumed Him. ''My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even 
unto death '' He said. Afterward the evan^relist savs He 
began to be very heavy, and it was sinners that on the cross 
made Him bow His head and give up the ghost. He was 
not killed. His enemies did not take His life. The flood 
of sorrow for sin came into His soul, and overwhelmed Him. 
It was too much. His heart was broken. Oh, the v/cight 
of that sorrow! He bowed His head and gave up the 
ghost. Then sin was expiated. Then the work of man's 
atonement was completed. At last man had done adequate 
penance. At last sorrow for sin had reached its just proper 
tion as an off^ence against God. 

Here, I say, we have a revelation of the evil of sin. God 
does nothing in vain : His works are as full of wisdom as they 
are of power. Since, therefore, Christ died for sin, the cross 
of Christ is the measure of sin. ^* From tlie consideration of 
the remedy," says St. Bernard, " learn, O my soul, the great- 
ness of thy danger. Thou wast in error, and behold the Son 



836 THE CROSS THE MEASURE OF SIN. 

of the YirgiD is sent, the Son of the Most High God is ordered 
to be slain, that my wounds may be healed by the precious 
balsam of His blood. See, O man, how grievous were thy 
wounds, for which, in the order of Divine wisdom, it was 
necessary that the lamb Christ should be wounded. If they 
had not been unto death, and unto eternal death, never would 
the Son of God have died for them. The cross of Christ 
is not only an altar of sacrifice, but a pulpit of instruction. 
From that pulpit, lifted up on high, Jesus Christ preaches a 
lesson to the whole world." The burden of the lesson is the 
evil of sin. " The law was given by Moses, but grace and 
truth came by Jesus Christ." And yet, my brethren, the 
law was published afresh by Jesus Christ. Mount Calvary 
but repeats the message of Mount Sinai — nay, repeats it with 
more power. Ilere, indeed, God does not speak in thunders 
and lightnings, as He did there, but He speaks in the still 
small voice of the suffering Saviour. Oh, what meaning is 
there in those sad eyes as they bend down upon us ! Oh, 
what power in those gentle words He utters ! He does not 
say, " Thou shalt not commit adultery ; thou shalt not steal ; 
thou shalt not bear false witness." ITo. He cries to a guilty 
people, a people who have already broken the law, and He 
says to them : " See what you have done. See My thorn- 
crowned head. See My hands and feet. Look at Me whom 
you have pierced. Is it a light thing that could have reduced 
Me to such a state of woe ? Is it a light thing that could have 
bound Me to this cross ? Me, the Creator of all things, to 
whom you owe all life and liberty ? Who by My word and 
touch have so often healed the sick and released them that 
were bound to Satan. They say of Me, ' He saved others, 
Himself He cannot save.' And they say truly. Here must 
I hang. Not the Jews have nailed Me to this cross, but My 
love, and thy sins. Yes, see in My sufferings your sin dis- 
played. See in the penalty I pay the punishment you have 



I 



THE CKOSS, THE MEASURE OF SIN. 337 

deserved. See yonr guilt in My- sorrow. Look at Me, and 
see what sin is in the presence of the All Holy God ! " 

Can any thing show more than this what a mysterious evil 
sin is, that it is an offence against God, an assault upon His 
throne, an attack upon His life, an evil all but infinite ? All 
the other expressions of the evil of sin, the cries of misery 
which it has wrung from its victims, the warnings which 
natural reason has uttered against it, the tender lamenta- 
tions with which the saints have bewailed it, the penalties 
with which God has threatened to visit it, all pale before the 
announcement that God sent His Son into the world to die 
for it. I do not wonder that, as the evangelist tells us, the 
multitudes who came together at the sight of our Saviour's 
crucifixion returned smiting their breasts. Oh, what an 
awakening of stupefied .consciences there must have been that 
day ! How many, who came out in the morning careless and 
thoughtless, went back to the city with anxious hearts, with 
a secret grief and fear within they had never felt before. I 
suppose that even the scribes and Pharisees, who had plotted 
our Saviour's death, felt, for the moment at least, a guilty fear. 
Why, even Judas, when he saw what he had done, repented, 
and went and hanged himself, saying : " I have sinned in 
that I have betraved the innocent blood." And this book 
of the Passion has been ever since the source from which 
penitents have drawn their best motives for conversion, and 
saints their strongest impulses to perfection. Here, on the 
cross, is the root of that uncompromising and awful doctrine 
aboat sin — the doctrine, I mean, that sin is in no case what- 
ever to be allowed, that even the smallest sin for the greatest 
result can never be permitted ; that it is an evil far greater 
than can be spoken or imagined ; that it must never be trifled 
with, or made light of; that it is to be shunned with the 
greatest horror, and avoided, if need be, even at the cost of 
our life — which has always been so essential a part of Chris- 
tianity. 



838 THE CROSS, THE MEASURE OF SIN. 

And now, my brethren, it is because men forget tlie cross, 
because their minds no longer move on a Christian basis, that 
they make light of sin. There is a tendency in our day to do 
so. Crime — men acknowledge that, an oifence against law, 
an offence against good order. Yice — they acknowledge that, 
a hurtful and excessive indulgence of passion ; but sin^ r 
creature's offence against God, that they think impossiWe 
"What! can I, a frail creature,'' say they, "ignorant anc 
passionate, can I do an injury to God ? I err by excess or 
aefect in my conduct ; I bring evil on myself it is true ; but 
what difference can that make to the S'upreme Being ? Can 
He be very much displeased at my follies ? Will His serene 
Majesty in heaven be affected because I on this earth am 
carried too far by passions ? Can He care what my religious 
belief is ? or will He separate Himself from me eternally be- 
cause I have happened to violate some law ?" Such language 
is an-echo of heathenism, and heathenism not of the best kind, 
for some heathens have had a doctrine about sin which ao- 
proached very near to the Christian doctrine. It is, moreover, 
a degrading doctrine ; for, while it leaves a man his intellect 
and animal nature, it takes away his conscience. What is 
that conscience within us but a witness that God does concern 
Himself about us — that my heart is His throne, and that my 
everlasting destiny is union with Him. " Every one that is 
born of God," says the apostle, " doth not commit sin, for he 
cannot sin, because he is born of God." Not that sin is a 
physical impossibility with him, but it is in contradiction to 
his regenerate nature. In order, then, to soothe yourself into 
the belief that sin is not so very bad, that God cannot be 
very angry with you for it, you have got to tear conscience 
from your heart, you have got to give up the good gift, and 
the powers of the world to come, which came upon you at 
your baptism ; and you have to give up all the brightest hopes 
of Christianity for the life hereafter. Nay, more, you have 
got to deny the cross, to deny our Lord's divinity, to deny 



THE CROSS, THE MEASURE OF SW. 339 

BiQ sufferings for sin, and thus to render yourself without 
faith as well as without conscience. 

I conclude with the affectionate exhortation of St. John the 
Apostle. ^'My children^ these things I write to you that ye 
sin not.^^ "All unrightemtsness is sin^ Every breach of the 
moral law is a failure in that homage, that obedience, that 
service we owe to God. It is a direct offence against God. 
Tt is a thing exceedingly to be feared and dreaded. A wrong 
word spoken or a wrong action done has consequences 
which go far and wide. Do not say, you have sinned, but 
have done harm to no one. Tou have done harm to God, 
and you have certainly done harm to yourself. Do not sin. 
Do not commit mortal or venial sin. Do not make light of 
sin. Do not abide in sin. If you are in sin now, remember 
at this holy time to repent and turn back to God : and if 
your conscience tells you that you are now in the friendship 
of God, oh, let it be all your care to avoid sin. Fly from 
the face of sin. Fly from the approach of sin. Avoid the 
occasions of sin. Watch against sin, and pray continually, 
not to be led into sin : and when your hour of trial comes, 
when soiie strong temptation assails you, then be ready to 
iiay, as the prophet Joseph, " What ! shall I do this wicked 
thing, and offend against God ?" This is that fear of God 
which is the beginning of wisdom. This is the happiness 
of which the Psalmist spoke : " Blessed is the man that hath 
not vmlked in the council of the ungodly^ nor stood in the way 
of sinneyis^ nor sat in the chair of pestilence '^ hut his will is 
in the law of the Lord, and on His lav) he shall meditate 
day and night. And he shall he liJce a tree which is planted 
near the running waters^ which shall hring forth its fruit in 
due season. And his leaf shall not fall off j and all^ what- 
Boever he shall do^ shall prosper^ * 

♦ Ps. L 1-3. 



a40 DIVINE CALLS AND WARNINOft. 

SERMON Xm. 

DIVIDE CALLS AND WARNINGa 

(a ftKXMON FOR LENT.) 

**Seek ye the Lord while He may be found, call upon Him while He is near* 

ISAI. LV. 6. 

The Wise Man tells us that " all things have their seasony 
and in their times all things pass under heaven^ ^ Cer- 
tainly, it is so in the natural world. There is a time for the 
birds to migrate. '^The kite in the air knows her time^ the 
turtle and the swallow and the stork observe the time of their 
coming^ f Tliere is a time for seeds and shrubs to grow. 
Seed-time and harvest do not fail. There is a busy time and 
a slack time in the world of commerce. There is a time for 
education, a time when the mind is inquisitive and the mem- 
ory retentive, and it is easy to acquire knowledge; and 
another time, when the powers of the mind, like the limbs 
of the body, seem to grow stiff and rigid, and can be em- 
ployed only with difficulty. But does this law reach also to 
the supernatural world? Has the grace of God also its sea- 
sons and its times? I believe it has ; and it is to this fact, 
so important in its bearing on our salvation, that I wish now 
to direct your attention. 

But you may ask me what I mean by saying that the grace 
of God has its special times and seasons. Are not *all times 
alike to God ? Is not God always ready to save the sinner, 
and to bestow the graces necessary to his salvation ? Un- 
doubtedly He is. We, Catholics, believe that God gives to 
every man living sufficient grace, that is, He gives him the 
grace to pray ; and if he prays, God is ready to give him 
other and higher graces, which will carry him on to salva- 

♦ Eccl. iii. 1. t J^^r. viii. t. 



DIVIl^TE CALLS AND WARNINGS. 341 

tion ; but, ordinarily speaking, men do not use this common 
grace, unless some special and particular grace is given 
which excites them to do so. Now, it is of these special 
graces of which I speak, when I say that they have their 
times and their seasons. I refer to those Divine Calls and 
Warnings, those Providences, those sacred inspirations, which 
stir the heart beneath its surface, and bring it, for a time at 
least, in conscious contact with the Infinite and Eternal. 
These, I say, come and go. They have a law of their own. 
We cannot have them all the time. We cannot appoint a 
time, and sav we will have them to-morrow, or next vear. 
They are like the wind that blows ; we hear the sound of it, 
but we cannot tell whence it comes and whither it goes. 
They are like the lightning, that sliines from the east even 
unto the west. They come suddenly, and dart a flash of 
light upon our path, then they are gone. They are like the 
visit of Ohrist to the two disciples at Emmaus : as soon as 
their hearts began to burn within them, and thej discovered 
who it was that talked with them, He vanished out of their 
sight. 

Certainly there are proofs enough that such is the law of 
God's dealings with the soul. If we look back at our own 
lives, do we not see that we have had our special times when 
Christ visited us ? our times of grace ? red-letter days in the 
calendar of our life ? I know God's grace acts secretly ; and 
oftentimes when we are under the strongest influence of grace, 
we are least conscious of it. But when the time is past and 
over, and we look back upon it, we can see that there was a 
Divine influence upon us, especially if we have corresponded 
to it. I think each one of us, if he looks back upon the past, 
will see clearly the times when he has been under the im- 
pulse of some unusual movement of the mind, the result of 
some special grace of God. Perhaps it came in the shape of 
some great affliction. You had a happy home. The purest 
of earthly joys was yours — domestic happiness, perfect sym. 



342 DIVINE CALLS AND WARNINGS. 

path} in gladness and in sorrow. But death entered } oui 
abod3, and the loving voice was silenced, and the kindly eye 
was closed. And in that deep grief, in that darkness and 
loneliness Clirist spoke to your sinking heart, saying, ^' Fear 
not ;" and you came forth out of that affliction with a new 
strength, with purer aims, with a quietness and peace of 
heart which only suffering can give. 

Or, perhaps, the crisis in your history was your attendance 
on a ^* mission." You had lived in neglect of religion, al- 
most complete. Confession was a bugbear to you. Years 
of sin and fors-etfulness of God had hardened vour conscience. 
But suddenly all was changed. You seemed a new nrian. 
Your faith was illuminated with a new brilliancy. Sin had 
a new horror. The string of your tongue was loosed^ and 
oh, with what ease, with what fidelity and exactness, you 
made that dreaded confession ! What comfort yoij derived 
from it ! and with what energy and determination did you 
enter on the duties of a Christian life ! 

Or, it might have been in less striking ways that grace did 
its work. It may have been a book, a word, an interior in 
Bpiration, some of the seasons of the holy Church, holy com- 
munion, some of the lesser changes of life, a fit of sickness, 
a violent temptation : these may have been the instruments 
which God made use of, from time to time, to convey special 
graces to your soul. Sometimes tlie aim of these graces was 
to arouse you out of some deeply-seated habit of sin ; some- 
times to draw your lieart away from the world to heaven ; 
sometimes it was a call to prayer ; sometimes a warning of 
danger : in fine, for some purpose bearing on your salvation, 
there they are, those visits of grace in your past life, as dis- 
tinct and unmistakable as any otlier part of your history. 
When we read the Bible story of such saints as Abraham, 
Moses, and Elias, w^hat strikes us as most wonderful and 
most beautiful is the familiarity in which they lived with 
God, liow God drew near to them and spoke to them. Now, 



DIVIKE CALLS AND WARNINGS. S43 

Buch passages have a parallel in the history of each one of 
us. There are times in our lives, and not a few such times, 
when God draws near to the soul, when He confronts it, 
makes special demands upon it, addresses it no longer in gen- 
eral, but particularly and individually ; when He says to the 
soul, Go and do tlra. Do not do that, as unmistakably as 
when He said to Abraham : '' Go forth out of thy country^ 
and from thy hlndred^ and out of thy father'' shouse^ and 
come into the land which I shall show thee,^'^'^ 

And if this be so, the mode in which we receive these 
divine communications must have a great deal to do with 
our guilt or innocence before God. We read in the Book 
of Judges, that on a certain occasion an angel of the Lord 
appeared to Manue and his wife, with a message from on 
high. He appeared to them in a human shape, and spoke 
with a human voice, and they did not know that he was an 
angel. It w^as not until they saw him ascend to heaven in 
the flame from the altar that they understood that they had 
been talking with one of the heavenly host. Then tliey 
said : " We shall certainly die hecaiise we have seen GodP'^\ 
Now, there is a sense in which this exclamation is neither 
supersti oious nor strange, as the expression, that is, of their 
anxiety lest in their ignorance they might have treated their, 
heavenly visitor in some unseemly way. O my brethren, 
it is no light thing for God to draw near to a human soul. 
It is no light thing for Him to speak to us. When He speaks 
we canrxOt'be as if He had not spoken. "His word shall not 
return to Him void." The relation between the Creator and 
the creature is such, that the moment He speaks our position 
is altered. When He calls we must either follow or refuse 
to follow ; there is no neutrality possible. 

Oh, what a thought, that if indeed God has spoken to us 
often in our past lives, if He has given us special calls and 

♦ Gen. xil 1. f Judges xiii. 22. 



844 Dry 1X15 oails axd warnings. 

warnings, we must often have resisted Him ! There are 
many of us, I fear, who have altogether too little conscience 
on this subject. A man comes to 'confession after an absence 
of several years. He confesses his more prominent sins 
against the divine commandments, but perhaps he does not 
even mention his failure to perform each year his Easter duty. 
And if the confessor calls his attention to it, he has nothing 
to say but, " Oh, yes, I neglected that." You see, he does 
not realize at all that God has been calling him from year to 
year, has met him again and again, and exhorted him to 
repent, and he has refused. 

Another man hears a sermon which thoroughly awakens 
his conscience. He sees in the clearest light the danger of 
his besetting sin. His conscience is stirred, he almost re- 
solves to break off his sin, but he does not quite come to the 
point, he postpones his conversion, and, after a little, dismisses 
the subject from his mind. Now, here again, you see, is a 
distinct resistance to grace. The man has not only continued 
in sin, but has continued in sin in spite of God's warning. 

Again, a person, free from the grosser forms of sin, has 
some radical fault of character ; some fault which is apparent 
to every one but himself; a deep obstinacy; a dangerous 
levity; an inveterate slothfulness ; an overbearing temper; 
a domineering spirit — faults which are the source of innu- 
merable difficulties — and he is plainly warned of these faults, 
but refuses to acknowledge them, strengthens himself in his 
self-deception, and clings to tliese faults as if fhey were a 
necessary part of his character. "What is he doing, but frus- 
trating the designs of God, despising His reproof, and reject- 
ing the grace which was meant to make him so much better, 
so much happier, so much more useful? 

Resisted grace ! What is that but to withstand God to 
His face, and to say: I will not serve f To resist grace, 
what is that but to despise the precious Blood of Christ. To 
obtain for us those graces, the Blood of Christ and all His 
eufierings were given^ and without them we should have 



DIVINE CALLS AND WARNINGS. 3-i6 

been left in our sins and miseries ; and so to refuse these 
graces is to make light of Christ's most bitter Death and 
Passion. To resist grace, what is that but to refuse glory. 
For each grace of God has a corresponding degree of glory 
attached to it ; and, if we refuse the one, we reject the other. 
The truth is, we forget too much God's personal agency in 
our salvation. We are on earth, aud God is far away 
in heaven. He has indeed left us His Law, and He is 
coming to judge us at the last day, but He is not now a pres- 
ent, watchful, living, speaking God: to us. We forget that 
^'He is not far from every one of us,^'^ We forget that He is 
about our path, and about our bed ; that He watches us with 
the eagerness and tenderness of a mother for her child ; that 
He intensely desires our salvation ; that He pleads with us, 
warns us, calls to us, stretches out His Hand to us all the 
day long. It is nothing that He Himself tells us He stands 
at the door and knocks ; it is nothing that He calls to us 
from without, saying : " Ojpen to Me^ My love^ for My head 
is wet with dew^ and My locks with the drops of the night y" 
we open not ; we heed Him not ; we hear Him not. Oh ! I 
believe, at the Judgment Day, many a man will be appalled 
to see how he has treated Christ. In the description which 
our Lord has given us of that day, He tells us that the wicked 
shall say,'in answer to His reproofs : '' When saw we Thee 
hungry or thirsty^ or a stranger^ or naked^ or sicTc^ or in 
prison^ and did not minister to Thee .^" So, I believe, many 
will say : " O Lord, when did we refuse to hear Thee ? 
When d:.d we shut our hearts to Thy grace ?" And He will 
answer : " When, at the voice of My preacher, you refused 
to forsake that sin ; when, at the invitation of My Church, 
you refused to repent and amend ; when, ^at the call of My 
Spirit, you refused to awake from your sloth, and follow after 
that perfection I demanded of you. In rejecting My agents, 
you have rejected Me. It was I ; I, your God and your 
Saviour; I, your End and Reward, who walked with you on 
X6* 



846 DIVINE CALLS AND WAKNINl^S. 

your way through life, who opened to 3'on the ScriptureSj 
and sought to enter in and tarry with you." 

And, again, as resistance to grace is a special sin in itself, 
and a special matter about wliicli we must render an account 
to God, so, when persisted in, it is the sure road to final im- 
penitence and reprobation. Let me bring before your mind 
some of our Lord's emphatic teaching on this point. 

Toward the latter part of our Lord's life, in preaching to 
His disciples on a certain occasion, lie used this parable : 
"A certain man had a fig-tree planted in his mneyayxl^ and 
he came seehing fruit on it and founds none. And he said 
to the tiller of the vineyard : Behold^ these three years I came 
seehing fruit on this fig-tree^ and I find none. Cut it down 
therefore / why doth it take ujp the ground f Btit he answer- 
ing^ said to him : Lord^ let it alone this year also^ until I 
dig about it and dung it. And if happily it hear, fruit : 
hut if not ^ then after that thou shalt cut it down^ ^ The 
same lesson which in this parable Christ conveyed to the ear. 
He addressed, about the same time, by a striking action, to 
the eye. As He was going from Bethany to Jerusalem, He 
saw a fig-tree by the wayside. ^' And he came to it^ and 
found nothing hut leaves only^ and he said to it : May no 
fruit grow on thee henceforward forever. And immediately 
the fig-tree, withered away. And the disciples seeing it^ won- 
dered^ saying : Hoio is it presently loithered awayf^ f The 
apostles could not fail to connect this action wdth the para- 
ble quoted above, and to. understand them both as referring 
to the rejection of the Jewish people. For three years He 
preached to that people, warned them, and instructed them. 
Then, at last, when they refused to listen to Him, He with- 
drew from them' His presence, grace, and blessing, and left 
them to the consequences of their unbelief and hardness of 
heart ; left them to " wither away." Listen to His lamenta- 

* St. Luke xiii 6-9. \ St. Matt. xxi. 19. 



DIVINE CALLS AND WARNINGS. 347 

fioii over that guilty city. It is Palm Sunday. lie is com- 
ing to the city in triumph. The crowds are shouting ho- 
sannas. At last, in His journey He comes to the Momit of 
Olives, whence the Holy City is full before His view.. He 
looks at it ; He thinks of all He has done to warn that peo- 
ple and convert them ; He thinks of the ill success He has 
met with ; He knows that he is going there for the last time, 
and that in a few days they will fill up the measure of their 
sins by nailing him to the cross ; and, as he looked upon it, 
He wept over it, and said : ^^If thou hadst 'known ^ and that 
in this thy day^ the things that are for thy jpeace : hut now 
they are hidden from thy eyes. For the days shall come 
ujpon thee^ and thy enemies shall cast a trench about thee* and 
compass thee round^ and straiten thee on every side^ and heat 
thee flat to the ground, and thy children who are in thee : and 
thsy shall not leave in thee a stone ujpon a stone^ because thou 
hast not known the time of thy visitations^ ^ !Behold the 
end ! a people resisting grace, until at last grace forsakes 
them, and they are left to their own impenitence and hard- 
ness of heart ! And behold the fearful image of a soul which 
)ias resisted grace, until its final reprobation ! 

Yes, my brethren, this is but the fearful image of what 
passes in many a soul. What does the Holy Scripture say? 
^'The man that with a stiff neck desjpiseth him that reproveth 
him shall suddenly be destroyed ; and health shall not follow 
him^ f God does not desire the death of the wicked. God 
never entirely ceases to strive with man. God never leaves a 
man altogether destitute of grace. But then God is not bound 
to impart special graces ; and when He finds that these graces 
are uniformly rejected, when he meets only a hardened heart 
and a will obstinately bent on evil. He withholds them, or gives 
them less frequently. Meanwhile bad habits increase ; sins 
multiply ; the root of sin in the heart becomes deeper and 

♦ St. Luke xix. 41-44. t Prov. xxix. 1. 



348 DIVINE CALLS AND WARNINGS. 

stronger: years pass on in sin, and at last death comes 
Wliat kind of a death naturally follows such a life ? What 
kind of death often, in point of fact, follows such a life? I 
will tell you : an impenitent death ; the death of the repro- 
bate and the lost. Perhaps the man dies a sudden death. 
He may die in his bed, but die a sudden death for all that ; 
for he may die out of his senses, and unable to do any thing 
whatever toward making his peace with God. Or, he may 
die in daring rebellion against God. It is possible for men 
to die so. It is possible for a man who has a deep enmity in 
his heart to refuse to give it up at the l^st hour ; and it does 
happen. It is possible for a man who has dishonest wealth 
in Ins possession to clutch it even while his fingers are cold 
and blue in the last agony ; and that does happen. It is pos- 
sible for a man who has lived in shameful sins of unchastity 
to refuse to dismiss the partner of his guilt, though in five 
minutes his soul will be in hell; and that too has happened. 

Or, a man may die in despair. The devil may bring the 
fearful catalogue of his sins before his mind, in all their black- 
ness and enormity ; the remembrance of bad confessions and 
broken resolutions may paralyze his will ; and the dreadful 
record of communions made in sacrilege may comj)lete the 
temptation, and the poor soul turn away from the crucifix, 
turn away from the priest, and die pouring forth the ravings 
of despair. 

Or, on the contrary, he may die in presumption, in self- 
deceit. He may indeed go through the form of a confession, 
may receive the sacraments, and cheat himself into thinking 
it is all riglit, and be all the time a hypocrite, turning 
from his sins, not because he hates them, but because he 
can no longer enjoy them; and may receive the absolution 
of the priest only to hear it reversed the moment he gets 
into the presence of the unerring Judge, before whom are 
open all the secrets of the heart. 

Death in some such form is, I say, the natural end of 



DIVINE CALLS ANL WARNINGS. 349 

neglect of divine calls and warnings ; and sucli a death is, in 
point of fact, not unfrequently the actual end of such a 
course. " For^'^ says the apostle, " the earth that drinketh 
in the rain^ which cometh often upon it^ and Iringeth forth 
her-bs useful for them hy whom it is tilled^ receiveth hlessing 
from God, But that whichhringeth forth thorns and hriers^ 
is rejected^ and very near to a curse^ whose end is to he 
hurntr^^ 

And, O my brethren, if this is so, you who are putting off 
your conversion, putting off your return to God, to what a 
risk are you exposing your salvation ! You say you will go 
to your confession at some other time. You are young ; you 
imagine it will be easier in coming years ; you think your 
passions will be weaker, your temptations less. But you are 
deceiving yourselves. You are counting on that which you 
do not know will ever be yours. You cannot promise your- 
self another year. How many who were here a year ago are 
now numbered with the dead ! some of them as young as you 
are, and who a year ago felt as you do now. You count on 
special graces, and you have no right to count on them. 
You are deceiving yourselves, my brethren, you are deceiving 
yourselves. The freeness and abundance of grace, the cheap- 
ness of grace, if I may so express myself, deceives you. God 
invites, and seems to plead and to beseech you to be saved,, 
and you think it will always be so. You think a time is 
coming when God will save you in spite of yourselves. You 
know that you are not now on the road to heaven, you know 
that you are Living in sin, but you think somehow God will 
interfere and make it right. We are told in the gospel that 
there was at Jerusalem a pool, around which usually lay a 
great multitude of sick and afflicted people, waiting lor the 
moving of the water ; for an angel came down at certain 
times and troubled the water, and whoever stepped in first 

* Heb. vi. T, 8 



350 DIVINE CALLS AND WARNINGS. 

after the troubling of ttie water was healed. So it is with 
slothful, negligent, procrastinating Christians. ITiey lie in 
their sinSj waiting for some aid which will raise them to 
their feet, and make them whole without any effort of their 
own. Tain hope! They will die in their sins. "You 
shall seeh m^/' said Chr]i:5tj '^ and you shall die i7i your 
sins.^^ ^ These fearful words v:re addressed to you, O des- 
piser of God's grace ; to you, O young man, who deferrest 
conversion ; to you, lover of pleasure, who will not break with 
your idols ; to you, drunkard, wlio will not throw away the 
intoxicating glass ; to you, O avaricious man, who are getting 
rich by fraud or by the blood of souls. " You shall die in 
your sins.^^ That is the end to which you are tending. As 
you have despised God, so Ke will despise you. You shall 
seek Him, but you shall not find Him. You shall call upon 
Him, but He will not hearken. At your dying hour, every 
thing will fail you. Prayer will die on your lips, unused to 
pray. Your mind, so long accustomed to love sin, will find 
it hard to turn from it with true contrition. The priest, ah ! 
the priest cannot ?r^ave you. He can only help you, can only 
give you the consolations of religion if you are rightly dis- 
posed. And how can you dispose yourself at that dreadful 
hour,- when your mind is filled \jith a fearful looking for of 
judgment, when all your sins, and all the graces you have 
rejected, rise up before your guilty conscience ? Oh ! meet 
this danger. Do not run this risk. JResist no longer the 
grace of God. Behold, now once more God calls you to His 
fear. Behold, the days have come " to do penance, and to 
redeem your sins." God by His Holy Church makes you 
another offer. " Turn unto me^ and 1 will turn unto you^'^ 
baith the Lord. " Let the wiclced forsake his way^ and the 
unjust man his thoughts^ and let him return to the Lord^ 
and he will have mercy on him "f ^' To-day^ then^ if you will 

* St John viii. 21. \ Isai. Iv. 7. 



DIVINE CALLS AND WARNINGS. 351 

heai His voice^ harden not your lieartsP Resolve to prepare 
for your Easter confession. If you came last Easter and 
have persevered, bless God, and come now. If you have 
fallen away, see where the error was, and learn a deeper 
humility, and make a stronger purpose, and come again. 

And, oh ! if you have stayed away in former years, and 
are purposing to stay away this Easter, too — or if you are too 
negligent to have formed any purpose ; if you are just float- 
ing on, heedless and careless, then know, that for all these 
things God will bring you into judgment, that the severest 
part of your account will be for graces resisted and rejected ; 
and that you are preparing for yourselves the retribution 
threatened in those dreadful words: ^'Because I called and 
you refused: I stretched out My Hand ; and there was 
none that regarded. You have despised all my counsel^ 
and have neglected my reproofs. I also will laugh in your 
destruction : and will mocTt^ when that shall covie xipon you 
which you feared, WJien sudden calamity shall fall upon 
you^ and destruction as a tempest shall he at hand: lohen 
tribulation and distress shall come upon you: Then they 
shall call tipon Me^ and I will not hear : they shall rise in 
the morning^ and shall not find Me : Because they hated 
instruction^ and received not the fear of the Lord^ nor con- 
sented to My counsel^ hut despised all My reproof There- 
fore they shall eat the fruit of their ovm way^ and shall he 
filled with their oxen devices^ ^ 

♦ Pwr. L 24-31, 



S52 THE TOMB OF CHRIST, 



SERMON XIV. 

THE TOMB OF OHRIST, THE SCHOOL OF COMFORT. 

(E ASTER SUNDAY.) 

" Jesus saith to her: Woman why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?'* 

St. John xx. 15. 

How full of tenderness are these words ! They were 
spoken on the first Easter Day. This weeping woman was 
Mary Magdalene, she that had been a great sinner, and was 
converted, and loved our Lord so much. She liad been at 
His Cross : she is now at His Tomb, with her spices and oint- 
ments to anoint His body. But our Lord's body was not 
in the grave. The stone is rolled away. The tomb is open, 
and He is not there. And yet He is not far away. Risen 
from the dead to a new and mysterious life, He hovers about 
the garden, and draws near to her as she approaches the 
sepulchre. At the outburst of her grief on finding the sepul- 
chre empty, He breaks silence. " Woman why weepest thou? 
Whom seekest thou f " These are the first words our Lord 
spoke after His Resurrection. They are the same words that 
were used by the angel a little before. They seem to be the 
antiphon, the key-note which Heaven has given us to guide 
our Easter thoughts. No tears on Easter Day. Nay, no 
tears any more of the bitter, hopeless kind, for Christ is Risen. 
St. Mary Magdalene at the tomb of Chiist represents Hu- 
manity sitting in the region and shadow of death. Now to- 
day Christ comes forward, and speaks comfortable words to 
the human race. '' Why weepest thou ? Whom seekest thouV^ 
He challenges us. " I, thy risen Saviour," He seems to say, 
*' am thy consoler. What grief is there tliat I have not re- 
moved ?" And is it so? Are all our real sorrows removed 
or alleviated by the resurrection of Christ ? Yes ; heavenly 
messengers have appeared bringing good tidings. Christ ia 



•rHE SCHOOL OF COMFORT. 855 

risen. '' The stroke of our wound " is healed. " To tliem 
that sat in the region of the shadow of deaths light is sprung 
vp^ " The Day 'Spring from on high hath visited us,^^ The 
earth feels herself to be lightened of her darkness, and in 
every church in Christendom the cry is again and again re- 
peated : " Alleluia : Praise the LordP 

It would be too long to attempt to show how every human 
sorrow can gather consolation from the Resurrection of Christ. 
All I can hope to do this morning is to show how the three 
heaviest troubles of our race — doubt, guilt, and bereavement 
— find their relief in that event. 

I call doubt, guilt, and bereavement the heaviest woes of 
man. In regard to the first, religious doubt, many of you 
have had no experience. Brought up in the Catholic Church, 
with her teaching always sounding in your ears, you have 
never known what it was to have real doubts about religious 
truth. But there are otlieis who have known that anguish 
by experience. The soul of man thirsts for truth. Deep in 
every man's soul is a desire for God. It may be stifled, it 
may be silenced for a time by passion, but there it is, that 
stretching forth to the Fountain of Goodness and Beauty, 
that longing to know Him and His will. In generous souls, 
in souls that are conscious of their dignity, the finding of 
truth is an indispensable necessity. The search for truth is 
an occupation that must be pursued with whatever pain and 
trouble, and until it be found life is really insupportable. O 
my brethren, I do believe that there are souls around us who 
hunger for truth as a famishing man hungers for food. They 
labor and toil harder than any day-laborer. They are like 
men exploring a dark and many-chambered mine. They go 
with stooping head, and the sweat rolls off their foreheads, 
and their feet stumble, and with their dim light they can see 
but a little way before them, and they are in danger of los^ 
ing their way. No doubt they learn something ; for God is 
everywhere; God is in our hearts, and in Nature, and ia 



854 THE TOMB OF CHRIST, 

men, and in books, and in the past, and we cannot look for 
Him anywhere without finding His footprints ; but we want 
more than this. "We want God to speak to us. We sigh for 
the lost happiness of Eden, where God walked with our first 
parents in " the cool of the day." This is what men need. 
They need God to reveal Himself to them, to give them cer- 
tainty in religious truth, at least on the most important 
points. Everywhere men have been seeking tliis. ^'OU that 
God would rend the heavens and come down P'"^ This is 
the cry of humanity, that God would speak to us and make 
us hear His voice. And they have spught for this voice. 
They have strained their ears to listen to it. They have 
sought it of the moan and stars as tlj<3/ :noved through the 
heavcQS by night ; they have sought it in the whispers of the 
grove ; they have sought it at the lips of men of science and 
pretended religious teachers. But they have met in such 
sources only with disappointment or deceit. And yet that 
voice has always been in the v/orld. It spoke at first feebly 
and low, but louder and louder as tinjc went on, until Jesus 
Christ came and '' spake as never man spake." He claimed 
to be the Son of God, taught us clearly about God and our 
destiny, promised His unfailing protection to His Church in 
transmitting His doctrine to all generations, and confirmed 
the truth, both of His Teaching and Promises, by rising 
from the dead according to His Word. To Him, therefore, 
belongs the glorious title : " The Faithful and True Wit- 
ness^ the First-Begotten of the DeadP f Eighteen hundred 
years have passed away, but His Word has lost none of its 
authority, and now this morning we can say, as to every 
point of the Catholic creed, with as much certainty as on the 
morning of the Resurrection the Apostles felt in regard to 
all the words of Christ — ^' Ihelievey O glorious privilege of 
a Catholic 1 " Rejoice^'' says the prophet, ^' and he glad in 

♦ Isaias Ixiv. 1. f Apoc. i. 6. 



THE SCHOOL OF CC UFORT. 355 

the Lordj children of Sion^ lecause He hath given to you 
a Teacher of Justice^'^ Obedient to this inspired injunc- 
tion, the Church requires the Creed to be sung at her great 
solemnities. It is not enough to recite it. No ; it must be 
sung, sung in full chorus, accompanied with instruments ol 
music. And fitting it is and right. Worship would be in- 
complete without it. Litanies and hymns are the means by 
which the heart does homage to God ; but Ckedo, ^^ Iheliem^"' 
that is the intellect's cry of joy at its emancipation from the 
bondage of doubt. Oh, how mistaken are those who imagine 
that the articles of the Creed are like fetters on the mind. 
On the contrary, they are to us the evidences of that liberty 
wherewith Christ has made us free. We reject temptations 
against faith, as attacks on our happiness. We feel that to 
doubt the doctrine of faith would be to doubt the Son of 
God, and to doubt Him would be to discredit our own soul. 
Be firm, then, my brethren in faith. Remember that faith 
is part of your birthright and privilege as Christians. The 
Sepulchre of Christ is the gate to the Palace of Truth. See, 
the door is open. The stone is rolled away. Oh, enter and 
be blest. With Thomas look at His wounded side and say, 
" My Lord and my God .^" With Magdalene Ml at His 
feet and call Him '^'^ Master, ^^ Listen to His words and 
doubt no more. '' Being no more children^ tossed to andfro^ 
and carried about with every wind of doctrine^ 'but holding 
the truth in charity^ in all things grow uj> in Him who is 
the Head^ Ohristy\ 

Again, as doubt is the bondage of the intelleet, so guilt is 
the burden of the conscience. Who can give peace to a soul 
that has sinned ? The prophet Micheas well describes the 
anxiety of such a soul. '' What shall I offer to the Lord that 
is worthy ? Wherewith shall I 'kneel before the High God? 
Shall I offer holocausts unto Him^ and calves of a year old ? 

* Joelii. 23. fEplt. iv. 14 



S56 THE TOMB OF CHRIST, 

Will He 1)6 aj>jpeased with thousands of rams ? Shall I give 
my first-horn for my wickedness^ the fruit of my hody for the 
sin of my soul f "^ Now, must we for ever go on in this un- 
certainty ? Shall we never, after we have sinned, have again 
the assurance that we are pardoned ? Must we go trembling 
all our days, and be terror-stricken at the hour of death ? Are 
we left to our own fancyings and feelings to decide whether 
we are pardoned or not ? Shall we never hear that sweet 
consoling word: " Go in peace ^ thy sins are forgiven theeV^ 
Yes, Christ is risen. He is come from the grave " with heal- 
ing in His wings." He is come as a conqueror, with the tro- 
phies of victory. Hear what He says of Himself: '^ 1 am 
He that liveth and was dead^ and lehold Hive forever^ and 
have the keys of Hell and Death.^^\ He has come back 
from the grave with the keys of Hell in His hand. While 
He was yet among men He had promised to give those 
keys to St. Peter and tlie Apostles, but it was only after 
His death, by which He had merited our pardon, and after 
His Resurrection, bj" which His Father had attested His 
acceptance of the Ransom, that He proceeded solemnly to 
deliver them. "Now when it was late^*^ says St. John, 
"that same day'^'^ (Easter day) "Jesus came and stood in 
the midst and said to them : Peace he to you. As the 
Father hath sent Me^ I also send you. When He had said 
thisy He hreathed on them, : and' He said to them^ Receive the ' 
Holy Ghost : Whose sins you shall forgive^ they are forgiven 
them; and whose sins you shall retain^ they are retained.'^^X 
Do you hear this, O sinner ? He offers you pardon, and He 
assures you of it. All He asks of you is a true sorrow; all 
He asks is a fervent and true purpose to offend Him no more. 
Come, confessing your sins ; come, forsaking them, and He 
has promised that His priest shall declare to you, in His 
name : " 1 absolve thee from thy sins." He has promised to 

♦ Mich, vi 6 f Apoc. i. 18. % St. John xx. 19. 



THE SCHOOL OF COMFORT. 357 

ratity the sentence in heaven. Can you dontt His power? 
Can you doubt His truth? No : He has risen for our justifi- 
cation. '^ What shall we say then to these things ? If God 
he for us^ who shall he against us ? Who shall lay anything 
to the charge of the elect of God f It is God that justifieth. 
Who is he that shall condemn ? It is Christ that died^ yea also 
Who is risen again^"^ Do not look on us, the ministers of 
His grace, weak and frail as we are. Look at the Saviour. 
Look at Him dying on the cross, a ransom for our sins. Look 
at Him, rising from the dead on the third day, having accom- 
plished a complete victory over our spiritual enemies, and 
bringing to us life and pardon. See Him in His divine 
power, instituting sacraments by which that life and pardon 
might be communicated to us. Believe His word, trust His 
merits, have recourse to His sacraments, and thus, '^leing 
j usti fed hy faith have once more peace with God^ and rejoice 
again in hojpe of the Glory of GodP\ Come, forgiven sin- 
ner, lift up your head, for Godhath cleansed you. Be happy: 
be a Christian : be a man once more, for you are clothed 
again in the garments of innocence and sanctity. It is no 
incomplete and grudging pardon He has given you. Though 
your sins " were as scarlet," they are now as " white as snow ;" 
though they were " red like crimson," they are " as white as 
wool." "He hath cast your sins into the bottom of the sea." 
They shall never be mentioned to you again. He lias even 
restored to you again the merits you had acquired in days of 
innocence, and lost again by sin. He has " restored to you 
the years which the locust and the caterpillar and the mil- 
dew and the palmer-worm hath eaten^X Let, then, gratitude 
till your heart, let joy be written on your face, and let holy 
resolves for the future correspond to the mercy you have 
received. 

Fes, my brethren, Christ at His Sepulchre satisfies the in- 
tellect and heals the conscience — and He also silences another 

* Rom. viii 33. f Rom. v. 1. } Joel ii. 25. 



358 THE TOMB OF CHRIST, 

cry of human woe. It is that of which the prophet spoke 
when he said : " A voice was heard of lamentation^ of 
m.ourning and weejmig^ Rachel weeping for her children and 
refused to he comforted^ hecause they are notP"^ Oh ! it is 
hard to see one we love die, but is it not harder to our sensi- 
tive nature to bury them ? That makes us feel what we have 
lost. Reason tells us that the soul is immortal, but we need 
something more for our comfort. The heart asks, ^^ What is 
to become of the body that I loved so much?" Talk of the 
lifeless and speechless corpse. It is not lifeless and speech- 
less to me. Those cold lips smile the old smile on me, and 
whisper in my ear a thousand words of kindness. And oh, 
to part with that ! To lose even that sad comfort! To have 
the body of the dead taken away from us, is not that a grief? 
Such was Mary Magdalene's sorrow. " They have taken 
away my Lord out of the Sepulchre^ and I know not where 
they have laid Him^^ She could bear any thing but that. 
She had borne up at our Lord's death. It was a bitter tiling, 
but then she stood at the foot of the cross on which He hung, 
and she could look up at Him and see Him. She had borne 
up on Friday evening, for then she was busy preparing her 
spices and ointments. She had borne up on Saturday, for 
she was thinking all day of her visit to the grave next 
morning. But on Sunday, to go and find His body gone — 
never again to look upon those lips that had spoken peace to 
her soul ; never again to kiss with afiection those sacred feet, 
— oh, this was too much. And Mary stood at the Sepulchre 
weeping. But lo ! what voice is that which speaks : " Wo- 
man^ why weejpest thouT^ It is the voice of Jesus himself 
of Jesus whom she mourns. Himself, flesh and blood, the 
very Jesus whom she had known and loved. So, my breth- 
ren, as j^ou weep at the graves of your friends, those very 
friends stand near you and say, '' Wiiy weepest thou ?" Weep 

♦ Jer. xxxi. 16. f St. John xx. 2. 



THE SCHOOL OF COMFORT. 359 

not for me. Weep not for me, cliUdless mother! Weep not 
for me, my orphan child ! Weep not for me, mj sorrowing 
friend ! Leave my body awhile in the grave. It is not dead 
but sleeps. '' ]ror I hiovj that my Redeemer livethy and in 
tJie last day I shall arise out of the earth. And I shall he 
clothed again with my sTcin and in my flesh I shall see my 
God : Whom I myself shall see^ and my eyes shall hehold^ 
and not another'' sT"^ Touch me not yet : wait awhile, and 
you shall see my hands and feet, that it is I myself. '' For 
as in Adam all die^ so also in Christ all shall he viade alive. 
But "".very one m his own order ; the first fruits Christy then 
they that are of Christy who have helieved in His comi7ig,'^''\ 

Strange it is that our comfort and joy should come out of 
the grave. But so it is. By the resurrection of Christ all 
our woes are healed. Our new life springs from the sepulchre 
of Christ. Christ is ri^ en ;* we believe. Christ is risen ; we are 
pardoned. Christ is risen ; death loses its power to separate 
Christians. Mourn then no longer, my brethren, it is Easter. 
Believe, and rejoice. Forsake your sins, and rejoice. Bury 
your dead in Christ, and rejoice in hope. The former things- 
are passed away ; all things are become new. '' The winter 
is now passed ; the rain is over and gone. The flowers have 
appeared.; the time of pruning is come / the voice of the dove 
is h^ard in our 7yandy% It is Easter. This is that day 
"which the Lord hath made." This is the Lord's Passover. 
The Ked Sea is crossed : we are delivered out of Egypt, and 
are marching to the promised land. It is Easter. Mary has 
been at the sepulchre early this morning and has seen the 
Saviour. Jesus has appeared in the midst of the disciples, 
saying, '^ Peace be with you." Some have known Him in 
breaking of bread. To some He has drawn near as they 
walked along and discoursed together. Some that Avere sad 
He has comforted. How has it been with each 3f you? Haa 

* jQb xix 25. \ I. Cor. xv. 22. % Cant, il 11, 12. 



t ^ 

360 ST. MARY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHRE. 

this daj been a day of joy to 3^011 ? Has it awakened you to 
new lifel^ new liopes, new aspirations? or dues it find you 
cold, dead to spiritual things, perhaps not even in the grace 
of God, and in love with your sins ! Oh, at least now awake 
to the hopes and desires of a Christian. " The day is far 
spent; it draweth toward evening ^ Let not this glorious 
feast depart and leave you as you are. While angels and the 
Son of God are abroad on the earth, scattering grace and 
consolation, do not you alone remain unblest. Claim your 
privileges as a Christian, and, risen with Christ in baptism, 
seek those things that are above, where Christ sitteth at the 
right hand of God. 

And you, faithful souls who have done your duty, who 
have found in this Feast a joy and comfort that passes under- 
standing, know that the gladness of Easter is but an earnest of 
another day, the great day of eternity, which will open on 
the morning of resurrection, and which knows no evening; 
w^hich has no need of the sun, for God is the light thereof; 
when God shall wipe away all tears ; and death shall be no 
-naore; and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. 



SEEMON XV. 

ST. MARY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHRE. 

(EA.8TER 8UNPAY.*) 

**Bufc Ke rising early tho first day of the week, appeared first to Mary Mag- 
dalene." — St. Mark xvi. 9. 

St, Mary Magdalene may be called the Saint of the Re- 
surrection. She is intimately associated with that event in 
the pages of the Scriptures, and in the minds of Christians. 

♦ The substance of this sermon is from St. Thomas of Villauova 



ST. MARY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHRE. 361 

Indeed, the Gospel account of the Resurrection embraces an 
ahnost continuous record of the actions of this holy woman 
from the Crucifixion until Easter day ; and I have thought 
that in tracing that record this morning, while I am present- 
ing to you the great mystery of to-day's celebration, I shall 
at the same time be pointing out to you the means of obtaining 
lliose graces which our risen Lord has come to impart. St. 
Mary Magdalene's history for these three days is a history 
of love. Every thing she does, every thing she says, is a proof 
of her love for our Lord. And the distinguishing favors our 
Lord bestowed on her are a pledge of what we may look for 
to-day, if we imitate her love. 

First, then, we are told, that when our Lord was taken down 
from the cross, and laid in the new tomb of Joseph of Ari- 
raathea, she went " and saw how the body was laid." One 
might have thought it would have satisfied her to stand by 
the cross, through those fearful hours, till it was all over, and 
then to have returned home. No; love will see the last. 
She will follow on to the grave. It is true the dead bodies 
of our friends feel not our kindness, but still we want them 
treated with tenderness and care. So Mary follows the 
corpse to the burial, and, when it is laid in the sepulchre, she 
looks in to see how it is laid. Not a superficial look : no, 
an earnest scrutinizing gaze. She sees how the drooping 
head lays on its stony pillow, and how the pierced hands 
and feet are disposed. She makes a picture of it all in her 
own mind, and " then returns to the city to prepare spices 
and ointments." Now, there was no need at all of this. 
Nicodemus had come, as soon as Pilate had given the dis- 
ciples possession of our Lord's body, and brought " a mixture 
of myrrh and aloes, a hundred ^pounds weight." But Mary 
does not care for that. Others may do what good works they 
choose, but she will not be cheated of hers. And what she 
does she will do prodigally, too. It was her way. You 
remember how, at the house of Simon, she brought her ala- 
16 



862 ST. MiRY MA.GDALENE AT THE SEPULCHRE. 

baster box of ointment, and broke it, and scattered it over 
the feet of Jesus, so that ihe whole house was tilled with the 
perfume ; and how Judas found fault with her, saying, '' This 
ointment might have been sold for more than three hundred 
pence, and given to the.poor.'' Our Lord attempted then to ex- 
cuse her extravagance, saying, " She hath done this against tlie 
day of my burial." No, she would do it then, and she would do it 
at His curial, too. Nicodemiis and " the holy women" may 
brin.^ 9>s much as they like, but she will do her part. Precious 
and cc .tiy shall her offering be as she can make it, not l)e- 
causeHa needs it, but because her h6art is strr.itened to ex- 
press its love. It is her pleasure to s] en:l and be spent for 
Him whom she loved ; and all she can do is too little. 

But while Mary's love was impulsive and generous, it was 
obedient. " She rested on the Sabbath day, according to the 
commandment." Here is a test of true love. We want to 
do something very much ; we think the motive is good ; but 
there comes a providential obstacle in the way. We cannot 
do it just now. We cannot do it just in the way we want. And 
too often our love is not pure enough for this test. We mur- 
mur and complain, and commit a thousand disobediences, and 
show how much self-love had to do with our undertakings. 
It was not so with tliis holy woman. She wailed all ihe 
Sabbath day. It was God's command. The seventh day 
was kept by the Jews with a ceremonial strictness tliat for 
bade all work; and she would keep the commandment to thf. 
letter. So not a step would she take on the Sabbath, not 
even to the Saviour's grave. I am sure that Sabbath was a long 
one to her. Never was time's foot so heavy. Never 
did the hours go so slow. Never were the sacred services so 
tedious. A thousand times she goes to the window to see if 
the shadows were fi^ettin^: lonsr, and each time it seems to her 
that the sun is standing still. O loving heart ! loving in 
what she did not do, as well as in what she did. She will 
not take liberties with her couscience. She will not bo. 



ST. MARY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHRE. 365 

officious or intrusive. She will not please herself on pretence 
of doing something for God. And so, though her heart is at the 
sepulchre all day, though she yearns to go thither, not a foot 
will she stir, not a hand will she lift, till she knows that the 
fitting time is come. Her love was that orderly charity of 
which the Holy Scripture speaks."^ 

But the longest day has an end, and the end of that Sab- 
bath at last arrived. The sun sinks beneath the horizon. 
Tlie evening sacrifice is over. Darkness falls upon the temple 
aisles, and the last worshipper departs. By degrees the streets 
of Jerusalem become silent and deserted. It is night, a 
glorious night ; for the full paschal moon pours down its 
floods of light upon the holy city. And now the good 
woman, laden with her ointments and spices, sets out for the 
sepulchre. Alone, or only with a feeble woman like herself, 
she goes out late at night, and whither? To a garden out- 
side the city, where a band of soldiers keep watch over a 
grave, closed with a great stone, and sealed with the seal of 
state. Is she not afraid ? Does she not run a thousand risks ? 
Even supposing she reaches the place in safety, will she be 
permitted to approach the grave ? Who will roll the stone 
from the door? Who will dare to break the seal? O holy 
boldness of love ! which, when a duty is to be done, asks no 
questions, and knows no difficulties. O love ! stronger 
than death, despising torments and casting out fear! Here 
is the wisdom of the saints. Here is the secret of all the great 
things that have been done for God. There is a higher wis- 
dom and a higher prudence than the wisdom and the prudence 
of this world. There is a trust in God which is ever regarded 
as daring and enthusiastic, but which God justifieSj and men 
themselves are forced at last to applaud. 

Such were the sentiments with which St. Mary Magdalene 
went to the sepulchre. But here a new circumstance <ie- 

* Cant. ii. 4 



864 ST. AfAIlY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHKE. 

mands our attention. She set out, we are told, " while it was 
yet dark." It was night, the dead of night, when she left 
her house, and she di^ not reach the sepulchre till " the sun 
was risen." How did this happen ? The place in which oirr 
Lord was crucified was, as the evangelist tells us, " near the 
city." And, one reason why Pilate sufiered the disciples to 
lay our Lord's body in Joseph's tomb was, because it was 
close to the place of crucifixion, and the body could be laid 
there before the Passover began. What, then, delayed St. 
Mary Magdalene so long? What is the meaning of this? 
so prompt and eager in setting out, ^so tardy in arriving ? 
Love, again, my brethren, is the explanation. She had to 
pass through the city. Her road was what is called the '' Way 
of Sorrows," which Jesus took when he was led to Calvary, 
and along which she had followed Him on Good Friday. 
How could she go fast ? Every step brought its own memo- 
ries. There was the house of Caiaphas. There the judgment- 
hall of Pilate. There the balcony at which Jesus had been 
presented to the crowd, clad in a purple robe and crowned 
with thorns. There stood the pillar at which He had been 
scourged, and there was the spot at which he had fallen un- 
der the weight of His cross, and it was given to Sim6n of 
Cyrene to carry. No, her course was a pilgrimage. Each 
step was a holy station, at which she stopped awhile to i)ray 
and call to mind the events of that dreadful morning. And 
when she came to Calvary, where the cross was still standing, 
and threw herself on the ground to kiss the sod stiil wet with 
the Saviour's Blood, the hours pass by unheeded, for Jesus 
hangs there agair , and Mary, His mother, is by her side, and 
each tender word, each look of sorrow is again repeated. 
Love meditates. Love lingers in the footsteps of its beloved, 
and the sliortest, sweetest hours it finds on earth are hours 
of prayer. Vfha: wonder, then, that Mary kneels, embracing 
the foot of the cross, in perfect f >rgetfulness of all else be- 
Bides, until, as slie raises her eyes to cast an adoring glance, 



ST. MARY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHRE. 365 

Blie sees that the cross is gilded by the red gleam of the corn- 
ing Easter sun — that it is already day. Thus recalled to 
herself, she kisses that sacred tree for the last time, tears her- 
self from it, and hurries off to fulfil the work she had in 
hand. 

And she arrived at the sepulchre just in time, or rather 
Grod was there to meet her to reward her love. For the mo- 
ment she arrived, " there was a great earthquake, and an an- 
gel of the Lord descended from heaven, and coming, rolled 
back the stone, and sat upon it. And his countenance was 
like lightning and his raiment as snow. And for fear of him 
the guards were struck with terror, and became as dead men. 
And the angel, answering, said to the woman : ' Fear not 
you, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. 
He is not here, for He is risen, as He said. Come and see 
the place where the Lord was laid. And go quickly, tell his 
disciples that He is risen, and behold, He ^vill go before you 
into Galilee. And they went out quickly from the sepulchre 
with fear and great joy, running to tell his disciples.'^ See 
her running from the sepulchre as fast as she had so lately run 
to it ; for love easily changes its employment at the voice of 
its beloved. She had come to anoint the body of Jesus; 
there is no need of that now, for Jesus is alive ; but still 
there is something to do for Jesus — to tell His disciples. 
Peter, James, John, and the other disciples are at home, 
sorrowful and fearful. He whom they loved and trusted is 
no more; and they, whither shall they go? Besides this, 
there was an additional sorrow. Thev had forsaken their 
good Master in the day of His distress ; Peter had even de- 
nied ^Yith an oath that he knew Him ; and they now sat 
depressed and anxious in that upper chamber in which so 
lately they had eaten the Passover with Him. But He is 
alive ! and Mary knows it ! Shall she wait to see Him ? No, 

♦ St. Matt, xxviii. 2-8. 



366 ST. MAKY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHRE. 

she must go quicTdy and tell His disciples. " Tins command- 
ment have we from God, that He that loveth God, love his 
brother also." ^ And Mary leaves the sepulchre, leaves 
Christ, to go and carry the joyful news to His afflicted breth- 
ren. With nimble feet, with eager countenance, she returns 
to the city, seeks out the well-known house, and appears in 
the midst of the sorrowing group, with the exclamation: 
'' Jesus is alive ! He is risen from the dead !" 

Alas ! poor Magdalene ! '' Her words seemed to them as 
an idle tale." To us, familiar with the doctrine and proofs 
of our Lord's Resurrection, it is wonderful how slow the 
apostles were to believe it. No doubt, their slowness to 
believe is a benefit to us, because it was the occasion of mul- 
tiplying the proofs. Perhaps, too, it was not unnatural ; for 
faith does not come all at once. There is often a period be- 
tween doubt and faith, a period of inconsistency ; in whicli 
one is at one moment all Christian, and at another believes 
nothing. Certainly it was so with the apostles on Easter 
Day, and Mary Magdalene seems to have shared their infirm- 
ity. The apostles, as soon as they had lieard the nev/s that 
Christ has risen, set out for the sepulchre. When they came 
to the place, they found indeed the grave open, and the 
linen cloths, in which the Lord's body had been wrapped, 
lying in it, and the guard gone; but Him they saw not. 
Mary Magdalene accompanied them, and when she saw 
neither the Lord Himself, nor the angel who had spoken to 
her, and when she saw the incredulous looks of the disciples, 
she herself began to doubt. But though her faith was weak, 
her love was strong ; and she stood at the door of the sepul- 
chre, weeping. At least she will not give up the idea of find- 
ing the Lord's body, and carrying out her first intention of 
embalming it. So she stands at the sepulchre, and looks in. 
She had looked in many times already ; she had every corner 

* I. St John iv. 21 



ST. MARY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHHE. 367 

of it by heart ; but she looks in again. She will wee the 
place vv^here the Lord lay, if she cannot see Himself: and 
lo ! this time she sees a new sight. There are two angels, 
in white, sitting, one at the head and the other at the feet, 
where the body of Jesus had lain. Angels again ! but this 
time not angels of fear, with a terrible countenance, as the 
first had been, but angels of comfort and peace. And they 
spoke to her : " Woman, why weepest thou ? Why dost 
thou seek the living among the dead ?" One would have 
thought it was something to see an angel, and hear his voice : 
but this good woman makes very little of it. No angel will 
satisfy her now. " They have taken away my Lord," she 
replies, '' and I know not where they have laid Him ?" Is 
not this grief enough? to have lost a Lord, a Friend, a Sa- 
viour, such as Jesus was, and not even to have so much as 
His lifeless body left on which to lavish her endearments. 
^> my brethren, no created thing can satisfy the soul. I say 
not, though we had all the treasures of earth, but though we 
had all the treasures of heaven ; though angels and saints 
w^ere ours ; though we had visions and revelations ; yet all 
would be nothing if we had not God. Heaven would be 
hell witt'.mt Him, and at the very gate of Paradise the soul 
would weep and say, " They have taken away my Lord." 

lini at this point a new actor appears on the scene. A 
man approaches, and addresses Magdelene in the same words 
that the angels had used: ^' Woman, why weepest thou? 
Whom seekest thou ?" She takes him for the gardener, and 
Sv idenly a suspicion seizing her that he might know some- 
liiingof the treasure she had lost, turned upon him and said: 
'' Sir, if thou hast borne Him away, tell me where thou hast 
laid Him ; and I will take Him away." She does not answer 
his question. She does not tell him whom she is -seeking. 
For, as St. Bernard observes, " Love imagines every one is as 
full of the object of its love as it is itself;" and so she says: 
'■If thou hast borne ITiin away, tell me where thou hast laid 



868 ST. MARY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHRE, 

Him^ and I will take Him away." N"o need to mention His 
Name. All things knew it. The sun publishes it. It is 
written on the leaves. Tlie wind utters it. It is the Name 
that is above every name — the Name at which every knee 
must bow. ^' Tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will 
go and carry Him away." What, you ! a weak woman ! 
Can you carry away a heavy corpse ? Yes, she can ; and 
they that doubt it do not know how strong love is, how great 
a weight it can carry, what hard things it can do, and how it 
makes a man do what is above nature, or, rather, how, with 
faith and grace, it brings out the power that is in these hu- 
man hearts of ours, and awakens their latent energies. 

And now Jesus can restrain Himself no longer ; for Jesus 
it is who now speaks with her. She had charged Him with 
taking away the Sacred Body, and she was right. He it 
was who had taken it from the grave. ^' I have power to 
lay it down," said He, " and I have power to take it up 
again."^ Yes, it was Jesus. He had seen her tears, listened 
to her complaint, watched her efforts, and now the time had 
come when He would disclose Himself to her. He said to 
her : " Mary !" Oh ! what voice is that? What sweet and 
tender memories it wakes up ! The home of Bethany, the 
banqueting-hall of Simon, Mount Calvary, all are brought 
before her. She turns and looks keenly at the speaker, and 
one look is enough. It is He, the same — the very same whc* 
spoke pardon and peace to her soul, when first, a gviilt^^ 
woman, she had washed His feet with her tears. It is Jesut. 
He lives again. And, with her accustomed salutation, sho 
kneels before Him, and says : ^' Eabboni !" which is to say, 
Master ! 

How mucii is expressed in this brief interview. '^ Mary !" 
It is a word of gentle reproach. Mary, dost thou not remem- 
ber My words — My promise — that I would rise again ? Mary, 
— dost thou not believe My angels, bearing testimony to My 

♦ St. John X. 18. 



ST. MARY MAGDALENE AT THE SEPULCHRE. 369 

Resurrection ? Mary, whose brother Lazarus I have raised 
from the grave, dost thou not think that I am as powerful to 
rise from the dead as to restore life to others? ''Mary P'' It 
is a term of affection. As much as to say : I am risen; but 
I am stiil iLy friend. I do not forget the past, and now, on 
this glorious morning of My Resurrection, I tell thee that I 
know thee by thy name, and love thee with the same love 
with which I loved thee in the daj^s of My sorrow. And, 
''Master P^ is her fitting reply. " Master of my heart, whom 
only I have loved !" " Master of my faith, whom now I 
acknowledge as indeed risen from the dead !" '^Master, whose 
Truth and Power I have been so slow to understand !" 
" Master, whom all my future life shall honor and obey !" 
O happy Magdalene ! Her search is ended. Her tears are 
dried. O joy beyond all thought ! She has seen Him, and 
talked with Him ! 

my brethren, need I say more? Has not St. Magdalene 
preached an Easter sermon ? Love is the way to keep this 
feast. Love is the way to faith and joy. It is the way to 
faith, for our Lord saj^s: "H any man shall do the will of 
God he shall know of the doctrine, whether it is of God."** 
It is said of Magdalene that she loved much because she was 
pardoned much ; I say she believed much because she loved 
much. And love is the way to joy. Who are they that are 
truly happy on this day ? They who with Magdalene have 
sought Jesus ; they who by a true confession and a devout 
communion have united themselves to the risen Saviour, and 
conversed with him in sweet familiarity. For to them our 
Lord speaks and says: "Tear not, I have called thee by thy 
name, thou art mine. I am the Lord, thy Saviour, thy Re- 
deemer, the Mighty One of Jacob. Behold My hands and 
feet, that it is I myself! Fear not, Israel my chosen, and 
Jacob mine elect, for I am He that liveth and was dead, and 
have the keys of hell and death. And behold ! I am alive 
for ever more !" 

i6» * St John vii, H. 



870 THE PREACHEBj 

SEKMON XYI. 

THE PREACHER, THE ORGAN OP THE HO j/ GHOST. 

(fourth SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.) 

"When He the Spirit of Truth shall come, He will lead yji. .xito all truth." 

St. John xvi. 13. 

I NEED hardly say that the words " all truth " in this prom- 
ise mean all truth relating to onr salvation. It is no part of 
our Lord's plan to teach us the truths of natural science, 
lie leaves us to discover these by our own iiitelligence. lie 
comes to teach us faith and morals — what we are to believe, 
and w^hat we are to do, in order to be saved. lie did this 
while He was on earth by His conversations with His disci- 
ples, and by His public sermons to the Jews ; but He prom- 
ised that this work should be carried on after His death 
more extensively and systematically. Thus, in the words of 
the text : " When He the Spirit of Truth shall come He will 
lead you into all truth^^^ And again : '^ The Paraclete^ the 
Holy Ghost^ Whom the Father will send in My name^ He 
will teach you all things and will hring all things to your 
mind whatsoever I shall have said to youy\ It cannot but 
be a matter of interest to inquire in what manner this prom 
ise has been fulfilled. 

I answer, the Holy Ghost leads us into all truth necessary 
to our salvation by the public preaching of the Word of God. 
If we examine our Lord's words attentively, we shall be led 
to the conclusion that the ministry of the Holy Ghost to 
which He alludes is a public ministry. His own ministry 
was a public one, and in promising that the Holy Ghost 
Bhould carry it on and complete it, He leads us to anticipate 
that the ministry of the Holy Ghost would also be | ublio. 

* St. John xvL 13. f St. Joh.n xiv. 26, 



/ 



THE ORGAN OF THE HOLY GHOST. ^7l 

And His own subsequent language sliows that this ic really 
so, and acquaints us with the way in which this ministry is 
to be exercised. Just before our Lord's Ascension He met 
the Apostles on a mountain in Galilee, and said to them : 
'''All power is given to Me in heaven and in earth. Go ye^ 
thevefoK^e^ and teach all nations * hajptizing them in the name 
of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost j teaching 
them to observe all things luhatsoever I have commanded you ; 
and hehold I wm with you all days^ even to the consummation 
of the toorldy^ August and extensive as this commission 
was, it did not by itself qualify the Apostles for their great 
work. They were to wait in Jerusalem '^ till they were en- 
dued with power from on high." This '^ power " was the 
Holy Ghost wliich actually did descend on them at the feast 
of Pentecost. Here we find a company of men commis- 
sioned by Christ to teach the world in His name, and em- 
powered by the Holy Ghost for that purpose. We find these 
men afterward everywhere claiming to be the organs of 
the Holy Ghost. Thus, at the council of Jerusalem, they 
did not hesitate to publish their decrees with this preface : 
''It hath seemed good to the Holy Ghost and to usy\ And 
St. Paul tells the bishops of Ephesus, that they were placed 
over the Church "ly the Holy Ghost^X 

Now, who does not see here the realization and fulfil- 
ment of the great promise of Christ which I have quoted as 
my text ? That teaching of the Holy Ghost which was to 
follow His, which was to bring all things to remembrance 
which He had said, which was to abide forever, and which 
was to make known all necessary truth, was the teaching of 
the Apostles and their successors. It is the teaching of the 
Holy Ghost, because the Holy Ghost moves them to preach, 
furnishes them with the rule of their doctrine, and gives them 
their warrant and authority. In this sense it is that our 
Lord's promise is to be understood. It is a promise that 

* St. Matt, xxviii. 18-20. f Acts xv. 28. X -^^ts xi. 28. 



372 THE PREACHER 



readies to all time. It concerns us here and now. It as- 
sures us that at this day, far removed as we are from the 
times of Christ, across so many centuries, the Holy Ghost 
through the agency of the Church still brings to us the echoes 
of His words. He does this in the most solemn and authori- 
tative way by those great decisions of the Church to which 
He sets the seal of His Infallibility ; but he does it in less 
solemnity, less authoritatively, but more frequently, by the 
preaching of each individual priest. It is for this end that 
the priest is ordained. He is consecrated and set apart, not 
merely to say Mass, not merely to receive the confessions of 
penitent sinners and absolve them, but to publish the Word 
of God ; and He is empowered by the Holy Ghost for this 
very purpose. The Christian preacher is no mere lecturer, 
but an authorized agent and messenger of God, to deliver 
to the people the will of God. It is chiefly by the ordinance 
of preaching, in its various forms, that the Holy Ghost car- 
ries on the work of instructing men's faith, and regulating 
their morals. 

And here, I think, is to be found the real answer to a mis- 
conception of our principles so common among Protestants. 
It is very commonly said and believed that the Catholic 
Church wishes to keep the people in ignorance of the Scrip- 
tures. Now, this is not true. The Church does not wish to 
keep the Scriptures from the people. On the contrary, in 
all cases in which they are likely to prove beneficial she ap- 
proves and encourages their use ; but she does not regard the 
reading of the Scriptures as the necessary, or even as the 
ordinary mode of familiarizing the people with the Word of 
God. Thousands have gone to heaven who never read one 
page of the Bible. St. Irenseus instances whole nations who 
professed and practised Christianity in entire ignorance of 
the Divine Records. How many people in every generation 
are unable to read. Now, God has not made a twofol 1 sys- 
tem of salvation ; one f 3r the ignorant and one for the <^^a- 



THE OKGAN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 373 

cated No : according to the Catholic idea, for rich and 
poor, for learned and unlearned alike, there is one way of 
truth — the living voice of the preacher. This is God's ^\Sij. 
This is the Voice of the Holy Ghost. This is the publication 
of the Word of God. This is the sword of the Spirit. The 
decree has never been revoked : " T/iej^riesfs lips shall heep 
lanowledge; and the people shall seeh the law at his mouth / 
'because he is the messenger of the Lord of Hosts P"^ 

Bill-, an objection may be drawn against this high view of 
ViC ordinance of preaching, from the infirmities of the 
preacher himself. It maybe said: You tell us that the 
Holy Ghost speaks by the voice of the preacher, yet the 
preacher is but a falliblem an, ignorant of many things, 
liable to be deceived himself, not free from passions which 
may afiect his judgment. May he not falsify his message? 
May he not dishonor it ? I do not deny the fact on which 
this objection is founded. Undoubtedly, the preacher may be 
unfaithful in the delivery of his message. In the Catholic 
Church, however, the watchfulness of discipline, and the 
general acquaintance on the part of the people with the 
standards of faith and practice, will prevent any very serious 
error finding its way into the public teaching of the priest. 
Who supposes, for instance, that any Catholic congregation 
would tolerate from the pulpit a denial of Transubstantia- 
tion, or the true Divinity of our Lord, or the necessity of 
good works? But within a certain limit, no doubt, there 
may be much imperfection in the preacher, much that de- 
tracts from the purity, the majesty, and the dignity of the 
Word of God. What then? I affirm, nevertheless, that 
preaching is the great instrument of the Holy Ghost for the 
conversion of souls. Strange, that we should start back at 
every new manifestation of a law that goes all through 
Christianity, and even through all the arrangements of the 

* Mai. ii. T. 



374 THE PREACHER, 

natural world. In every department of human life, God 
makes man His representative — man fallible and weak. 
The judge on the bench represents God's Wisdom and 
Equity, though his decisions are often far enough from that 
Divine pattern. The magistrate represents God's authority, 
though in his hands that authority is sometimes made the 
warrant for tyranny and oppression. So, in like manner, 
the preacher represents the Holy Ghost, though he does not 
always represent Him worthily either in manner or matter. 
It is part of a plan. He who chooses man, sinful like our- 
selves, and encompassed with infirmities, to convey His par- 
don to the guilty, chooses as the organ of the Eternal Wis- 
dom, " holy, one.^ manifold^ subtle^ eloquent^ xindefiled^ hav- 
ing all power ^ overseeing all things^ the Brightness of Eter- 
nal Light, the unspotted mirror of God's Majesty''^' — man, 
with stammering lips, with a feeble intellect and an impure 
heart. And there is a reason in this plan. When the 
Church goes out to evangelize a new and strange people, she 
seeks, as soon as possible, to secure some of the natives to 
aid her in her work, who know the speech, and the manners, 
and the habits of thought, of those with whom they have to 
deal. No doubt her old, tried missionaries could furnish an 
instruction which would be more complete in itself, but tlie 
words of the neophyte will be better understood and received. 
So God, when He speaks to man, chooses as His instrument 
one who understands the dialect of earth. An angel would 
be a messenger answering better to His dignity, but less to 
our necessities ; so He considers our welfare alone, and 
passes by Raphael, '' who is one of the daily angels," and 
Michael, " who is one of the chief princes," and Gabriel, 
who is the strength of God^ and chooses Moses, who was 
" slow of speech," and Jeremias, who was diflSdent as a 
child, and Amos, who was but a lierdsrnan, following the 

♦WiscLvii. 22-26. 



THE OBGAN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 375 

flock — to utter His will to man. The human alloy in the 
Divine Word, no doubt, makes it less accurate, but it makes 
it more easily understood* Oh ! it is a mercy of God thus 
to disguise Himself and dilute His Word. The children of 
Israel said to Moses : '''Speak thou to us^ and we will hear. 
Let not the Lord spealc any more to us^ lest we die.'^^ ^ Who 
could look upon the Lord and live ? Who could listen to 
His voice in its untempered majesty and not be afraid? 
" The word of God is more penetrating than any two-edged 
sword^ reaching unto the division of the soul and the spirit^ 
of the joints also^ and the marrow^ f Do not be displeased, 
then, because God has sent to thee a messenger like thyself, 
one who speaks thy language, wlio shares thy ignorance and 
thy frailties ; pardon him, forgive him his defects, strain 
your ear to detect in his lowly language some notes of that 
great message of Eternal Truth and Infinite Love, the story 
so old yet ever new — the love of Christ, the will of God, the 
end of man, grace, holiness, and eternity, those things on 
which depend our Iiappiness here and our salvation here- 
after. 

But here I feel as if I ought to add a word or two of ex- 
planation. When I say that the Holy Ghost teaches by the 
voice of the preacher, I do not mean to assert that He teaches 
in no other way. A very great part of the preacher's mes- 
sage consists of truths which are already written by the finger 
of God on every man's natural conscience. . A preacher is 
not required to make us understand that it is wrong to break 
the precepts of the moral law. Natural reason, the light 
that enlighteneth every man that comes into this world, tells 
us that. I could not but be struck the other day, as I passed 
two young men in the street, at hearing the honest protest 
witli which one of them met the sophistry in which his com- 
panion was evidently trying to indoctrinate him : -^ What !" 

♦ Exod. XX. 19. f Heb. iv, 12, 



376 THE PREACHER, 

said lie, " you don't mean to say it isn't a sin to get drunk \^ 
Indeed, it is seldom that men justify themselves for actions 
that are plainly wrong. They are still too full of the Holy 
Ghost for that. Passion corrupts their will, but does not 
always darken their understanding. They know the right 
while they pursue the wrong. But this circumstance does 
not make the office of the preacher unnecessary ; by no 
means. On the contrary, it is from this that the preacher 
derives a great part of his power. What he says finds an 
echo in the hearts of his hearers. One of the * strongest 
things that St. Paul said in his defence before Agrippa was the 
appeal : " iri7ig Agrippa^ helievest ihoxi the prophets f I 
hnow that thou helievestP ^ And so when the preacher is 
speaking before a congregation, of justice, of temperance, of 
judgment to come, do you know what it is that gives him 
such boldness and daring ? My brethren, I will tell you a 
secret. Perhaps you may sometimes have felt surprise when 
you have heard us, who have so many reasons for feeling dif- 
fident before you, so keen in denouncing your sins, so vehe- 
ment in urging you to your duties. Are we not afraid of 
wounding your pride, of alienating your affections ? ITo : 
it is in your hearts that we have om* strength. We would 
not dare to speak so unless we knew that we had a powerful 
ally in your hearts — j^our better nature, your reason, your 
conscience, the divinity that is within you. It is the greatest 
mistake in the world to suppose that it is unnecessary to tell 
people what they know already. Half the good advice that 
is given in the world consists of the most commonplace and 
familiar truths, but will any one say for that reason that it 
is useless ? No : the fact is, it is a great help to hear our 
own convictions uttered outside of us. A man believes 
more, is more conscious of his belief, his belief becomes more 
distinct, more serviceable, when he hears it from another's lips. 

*Actozx?l27. 



THE ORGAN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 37? 

WTiat a mercy of God it is, tlien, in a world like this, wKere 
there are so many temptations, where there are so many evil 
^<xamples, so much to draw off the mind from God, where it 
is so easy to obscure the line between right and wrong, that 
there should be an authoritative voice lifted up from time to 
time in warning ! "What a mercy, in those dreadful moments 
when the conflict rages high between passion andprinciple^and 
the soul, weary of the strife, is on the point of surrender, to be 
re-enforced by God Almighty's aid — to hear His voice amid 
the strife, saying : " This is the way ; walh ye in it /" "^ 

And then it must be remembered, too, that there is much 
of the preacher's message that is not known to man's natural 
reason, consisting of mysteries deep and high, which at the 
best can be known only in part ; and it is apparent how 
much it must depend on the preacher's office to keep these 
mysteries in men's minds, and to secure for them a place in 
men's intelligence and affections. The Chrig^tian Faith has 
always, from the beginning, been surrounded by adversaries 
who have attacked it, now on one side, now on another. 
We are apt to think it our peculiar misfortune to hear con- 
tinually the doctrines of our faith disputed ; but in fact such 
has been, more or less, the trial of each generation of Chris- 
tian believers. ITow, amid such ceaseless controversies, what 
means has our Lord left to protect and defend His people from 
doubt and error ? The ministry of preaching. Therefore, 
says the Holy Scripture : "Some He go/ve to he Ajpostles^ and 
some prophets^ and others evangelists^ and other's pastors and 
teachers^ that ive may not now he children^ tossed to and fro ^ 
and carried about with every wind of doctrine^ in the wide- 
edness of men^ in craftiness hy which they lie in wait to de- 
eeive.^-'f It is the office of the preacher to declare Christian 
doctrine, to defend and explain it, to show its consistency 
and excellence, to answer objections against it, and thus to 

♦ Ismail jjou 2U. f EpL xl 11-14 



878 THE PREACHER, 

add to tlie power of Lereditarj faith the force of personal 
conviction. The Chnrch has always imderstood this, and 
therefore, whenever a new heresy arises, she sends out a new 
phalanx of preachers to confront it by good and sound doc- 
trine. And the enemies of the Church have always under- 
stood it, and therefore, in times of persecution, when they 
wished to deal the Christian faith a deadly blow, they sought 
in the first place, by the murder of bishop and priest, to si- 
lence the voice of the teacher. It was one of the last woes 
threatened against Jerusalem that the people should seek in 
vain for a vision of the prophet, and that the law should 
perish from the priests ;'^ and when in the Christian Church 
there shall be heard no more the message of truth, when 
there shall be no more reproof, no more instruction in justice, 
the iniquity shall come in like a flood; then shall be the 
abomination of desolation, and the time of Antichrist. 

Great, then^ my brethren, is the dignity of preaching. It 
is God speaking on Mount Sinai. It is Jesus preacliing on 
the Mount. It is the Divine Sower scattering the seeds of 
truth and virtue. The Holy Ghost has not left the world. 
In every Christian church, at every Mass, th6 day of Pente- 
cost is renewed. See, the priest has clothed himself to cele- 
brated the unbloody sacrifice. He has ascended the altar. 
Already the clouds of incense hang over the mercy-seat, and 
hymns of praise ascend ; — but he stops, he turns to the peo- 
ple. Why does he interrupt the Masie? Has he seen a 
vision ? Has an angel spoken to him, as of old to the prophet 
Zacharias ? Yes, he has seen a vision. He has heard a 
voice. A fire is in his heart. A living coal hath touched 
his lips, the Breath of the Spirit hath passed over him, and 
he speaks as he is moved by the Holy Ghost. Listen to him, 
for he is a prophet. He speaks to thee from God. AVIiat is 
thy misery ? What is thy sorrow ? What is thy trial ? 

* Ezech. vii. 26. • 



\ 



THE ORGAN OF THE HOLY GHOST. 379 

Now tliou shalt find relief. Are you in doubt about religious 
truth ? Listen, and you shall find the answer to those doubts. 
Are you sorely tempted to sin ? l^ow God will give you an 
oracle to strengthen you. Are you distressed and suffering ? 
Have you a secret sorrow ? Now you shall receive an answer 
of comfort. Do you wish to know how to advance in God's 
love ? Now the way shall be made plain before your face. 

blessed truth ! God has not left Himself without a wit- 
ness. The world is not to have it all its own way. The 
teachings of Satan are not to go on all the week uncontra- 
dicted. The dream of the heathen, that there are sacred 
spots on earth whence Divine Oracles issue, is fulfilled. The 
Chair of Truth is set up for the enlightenment of the nations. 
'' The peo^ple that walked in darkness have seen a great 
light ; to them that dwelt in the region of the shadow of 
death light is sprung icp.^'^ "' The earth is filled vMh th-e 
knowledge of the Lord^ as the waters cover the sea^"^ This 
subject suggests some very practical refiections. I am not 
unmindful that some of them concern the preacher himself. 

1 do not forget that the thought of the high dignity of his 
office calls for the greatest purity of purpose and diligence of 
preparation ; but while I remember this, sufier me also to 
Remind you of your duty in listening to 'the preacher. St. 
Paul praises the Thessalonians because they listened to his 
words, not as the words of man, but as the words of God, 
In the sense in which the teaching of an uninspired man can be 
so designated, have you thus listened to the preacher's words ? 
Has it been a task to you to listen to the sermon ? Have 
you sought only to be amused ? Have you been critical and 
captious? Or, acknowledging the truth you have heard, 
have you been careless about putting it in practice ? Oh, 
how much the preaching of God's word might profit us, if 
we brought the right dispositions to the hearing of it ! If 

♦ Isaias ix. 2, 19. 



380 THE TWO WILLS IN MAN. 

we came to Clmrcli, eager to know more of God, with a sin- 
gle heart desirous to nourish our souls with His Truth, what 
progress we should make ! A single sermon has before now 
converted men. St. Anthony, hearing but a single text, 
embraced a saintly life. If we had such dispositions, if each 
Sunday found us diligent hearers of God's Word, anxious tG 
get some new thoughts about Him, some new motive to love 
Him, some new practical lesson, some new help against sin, 
it would not be long before the effect would be visible in us 
all. We should make progress in the knowledge of our re- 
ligion. The devil and the world would assail us in vain. 
Scandals and sins would become rare. Heavenly virtues 
would spring up. Piety would become strong and manly. 
And that which the prophet describes would be fulfilled : 
^' The Lord will fill thy soul with hrightness. And thou 
shall he lilce a well-watered garden^ and lilce a founta\ i of 
water^ whose waters shall notfaiV^^ 



SEEMON XVII. 

THE TWO WILLS IN MAN 

(POFETH SUNDAY AFTER EASTEK.) 

" The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." — St. Matt. xzvi. 4L 

The word '^ flesh " here does not mean the body, but the 
lower or sensitive part of the soul in which the fleshly appe- 
tUes reside. Our Lord is warning St. Peter of the necessity 
of prayer in order to meet the temptation which was coming 
upon him, and He tells him not to trust to the willingness of 
his spirit, (hat is, his good intentions and resolutions, because 
he had an inferior nature which might easily be excited to 

* Isaias IviiL 2. 



THE TWO WILLS IN MAN. 381 

eril, and which in the hour of temptation might, without a 
special grace of God, drag his will into sin. What our Lord 
is declaring, then, is the fact attested by universal experience, 
•that there are in the heart of man two conflicting principles — 
inordinate passion on one side, and reason and grace on the 
other. This truth, though so well known, touches our hap- 
piiiess a.nd salvation too closely not to possess at all times an 
interest and importance for each one of us ; and I propose, 
therefore, to make it the subject of my remarks this morning. 
In the first place, then, what is the source and nature of 
the conflict thus indicated by our Lord ? Whence does it 
arise? How does it come to pass that there are those two 
principles within us ? How does it happen that every child 
of man finds himself drawn, more or less, two contrary ways, 
toward virtue and toward vice, toward God and toward the 
devil, toward Heaven and toward Hell ? The answer com- 
monly given is, that this conflict we feel within us comes from 
the fall, that it is the fruit of original sili. But the fall, ac- 
cording to the Catholic doctrine, introduced no new principle 
into our nature, infused no poison into it, and deprived it of 
none of its essential elements. We must look farther back, 
then, than the fall for the radical source of this conflict ; and 
we find it in the very essential constitution of our nature. 
Man, in his very nature, is twofold. He is created and finite, 
yet he has a divine and eternal destiny. He has a body and 
a soul, and therefore he must have all the passions which are 
necessary to his animal and sensible life, as well as the intel- 
lectual and moral powers which are necessary to his spiritual 
life. Here, then, we have, in the very idea of man's nature, 
the possibility of a conflict. We have two diflferent princi- 
ples, which it is conceivable might come into collision. Man's 
appetites and passions, no less than his reason, are given to 
him by God, are good, are necessary, but since his appetites 
and passions are blind principles, it is conceivable that they 
miijht demand gratifications which would not be in accord- 



882 THE TWO WILLS IN MAN. 

ance with liis reason and spiritual nature. As human nature 
was at first constituted by the Ahnighty, any actual collision 
between these parts was prevented by a gift, which is called 
'• the gift of integrity,'' a gift which was no essential part of 
our nature, but was conferred on it by mere grace, and which 
bound together the various powers of the soul in a wondrous 
harmony, so that the movements of passion were always in 
submission to reason. When Adam sinned, this grace was 
withdrawn from him ; and since it was no neces-^txry pari, of 
our nature, since it was given of mere grace, it was withdr^^wn 
from the whole human race. Hence fnen now find in them- 
selves an actual confiict between the higher and lower parts of 
the soul. In a complicated piece of machinery, if a bolt or belt 
is broken that bound it together, the parts clash. Each part 
may in itself remain unchanged, but it no longer acts harmo- 
niously with the other parts. So in fallen man, the bolt that 
braced the soul together is broken, and the powers of the soul 
clash together. The passions, the will, the reason, all, in 
themselves, remain as they were, undepraved ; but they are 
no longer in harmony together, and man finds himself weak- 
ened by an intestine conflict. This, together with the loss 
of supernatural grace and a supernatural destiny, is the evil 
which, according to Catholic theology, acciued to man by the 
fall. 

This conflict, then, which we find within us ; this clamor 
of the lower nature against the higher ; this propensity of the 
passions to rebel against reason — in other words, this prone- 
ness to sin, which is the univei'sal experience of humanity, 
does not prove that we have lost any constituent part of our 
nature, that there is any thing positively vicious in us, nor 
does it prove that we are hateful to God. It proves, indeed, 
that ^ve are not divine, that we are not angels, that we are 
not in the condition of human nature before Adam's trans- 
gression ; it proves that a som^ce of weakness, inherent in our 
nature, has been developed by the fall, tluit we need grace; 



THE TWO WILLS IK MAN. 8S8 

but it gives not the slightest reason for supposing tuat our 
manhood has been wrecked, that the will is not free, that the 
reason of man has been extinguished, or that the passions are 
not in themselves good, and have not their legitimate sphere 
and exercise. So true is this, that this propensity to sin re- 
mains even in the baptized. Baptism does a great deal for 
a man. It tabes away original sin, by supplying that justi- 
fvino" (xrcice which our race forfeited in Adam. It restores 
to man his supernatural destiny. In the language of the 
Council of Trent, it renders the, newly-baptized "innocent, 
immaculate, pure, harmless, and beloved of God, an heir of 
God, and a joint heir with Christ, so that there is nothing 
whatever to retard his entrance into heaven." But there is 
one thing it does not do. It does not remove the propensity 
of the passions to rebel. And the Council uses this fact — 
that concupiscence remains in the baptized — to prove that 
concupiscence, or the propensity to evil, cannot itself be sin ; 
and enforces its conclusion by the seal of its infallibility and 
the warrant of its censures, saying: ^'If any one is of tbe 
contrary sentiment" (that is, declares that the incentive to 
sin^ which remains in the baptized, hath in it the true and 
proper nature of sin), " let him be anathema." ^ 

ThciS, Christianity explains the origin of this conflict in the 
human heart, in a manner agreeable to reason and human 
experience. But it does more. It reveals to us the purpose 
of this conflict. Why does our Lord leave us subject to this 
strife? The same holy Council I liave quoted already, an- 
swers distinctly ; this incentive to sin is left in the ,soul '' to 
he wrestled with.^^ The state of the case is this : The passions 
desire to be gratifled without waiting for the sanction of 
reason, sometimes even in deflance of reason. Morally speak- 
ing, this is no evil. The passions are but blind instincts ; it 
is the province of the will to restrain them in their proper 

♦ Sees. V. Decree on OriginAl Sin. 



384: THE TWO WILLS IN MAN. 

limits, and to help her in this work she has reason and the 
grace of God. If she fails to do her work, then she sins. 
Whenever sin is committed, it is the will that commits it. 
It is only the will that can sin. The sin lies not in the inor- 
dinate desire, but in the will's not resisting that desire. The 
will is the viceroy of God in the heart, appointed to keep that 
kingxiom in peace. And herein lies the root of Christian 
morality, the secret of sanctilication, and the essence of human 
probation. We speak of outward actions of sin ; but all sin 
goes back to the will. There was the treason. " Out of the 
heart^'^ says our Blessed Lord, ''proceed murders, adulteries^ 
fornications^ thefts^ false testimonies^ hlasphemles.^'^'^ Each 
black deed is done in the secret chamber of the heart before 
the hand proceeds to execute it. Each false, impure, and 
blasphemous word is whispered first by the will before the 
lips utter it. Yes, man's heart is the battle-field. There is 
the scene of action. We speak sometimes of a man's being 
alone or being idle : why, a man is never alone ; never idle. 
He may, indeed, be silent, his hands may be srill, no one 
may be near him ; but in that kingdom v^dthin great events 
are going on all the time. Angels and saints are there. Tlie 
armies of Heaven and the armies of Hell meet there. Attack 
and repulse, parley and defiance, truce and surrender, strata- 
gem and treason, victory and defeat — are things of daily oc- 
currence there. 

Of course, this is all very well known, very simple, very 
elementary, but yet there are some who never seem to under- 
stand it. They do not understand it who confound tempta- 
tion with sin. This is a mistake often made, and by those 
too who ought to know better. If a man feels a strong incli- 
nation to evil, if an evil thought passes througli his mind, or 
a doubt against the faith assails him, immediately he imagines 
that he has fallen under God's displeasure. To state such an 

♦ St. Matt XV. 19. 



THE TWO WILLS IN MAN. 886 

error is to refute it. ISTever, my brethren, fall into this mi§- 
take. No : between temptation and sin there lies all that 
gulf that separates Heaven from Hell. Let the devil fill yowt 
mind with the most horrid thoughts, let all your lower natui-Q 
be in rebellion, let you have temptations to unbelief, to des- 
pair, to blasphemy ; yet if that queenly will of yours keeps 
her place, if she stand steadfast and immovable, not only 
have you not sinned, but you are purer, more spiritual, more 
full of faith and reverence than if you had had no such trial. 
When St. Agnes was before the heathen judge, he ordered 
her to be sent to the stews and thrown among harlots, but 
she answered : " I shall come out of that place virgin as I 
entered it." Yes, all the powers of earth and hell cannot 
make a resolute soul commit a single sin. It is said that the 
walls of that house of prostitution, to which the holy maiden 
was conderan'ed, still stand, and form the walls of a church 
dedicated in her honor — a visible proof how the soul, faithful 
to itself and God, turns the very means and instruments of 
its temptations into trophies of its most magnificent victories. 
Nor do those understand the nature of the Christian con- 
flict who make strong passions the pretext for the neglect of 
religious duties. There are such. Their hearts are too tu- 
multuous, their passions too strong, their virtue too weak, 
their circumstances too difficult ; and they must wait till they 
become more composed, calmer, more devout, until religion 
becomes more natural to them. Error, dangerous as com- 
mon ! I tell you, Christianity takes hold of every man just 
as he is, and just where he is, and claims him. No doubt, a 
quiet te-mper, a tranquil disposition, a devout spirit, are 
valuable gifts, but the root of religion does not lie in them, 
but in the will. That is it. God never intended religion to 
be confined to the passive and gentle, and to be neglected by 
the strong and impulsive. Tou, young man of pleasure ; 
you, man of business and enterprise ; you, proud and worldly 
man ; you, passionate woman, with your wild and wayward 



$86 THE TWO WILLS IN MAJ^. 

nature, God, this day, here and now challenges you : " Wh? 
are you not workhig with Me, and for Me? Why are you 
not religious?" '' Me !" you say, '^it is impossible. I am 
sensual and avaricious, I am selfish and revengeful, I am 
full of hatred and jealousy, I am worldly to the heart's core." 
No matter : you know what is right ; are you willing to do 
it ? '' Oh ! I cannot. I do not love God. Mv heart is cold." 
No matter : are you willing to serve God with a cold heart ? 
That is the question. " I cannot, I cannot. I have no faith. 
I cannot pray. I have not a particle of spirituality. Reli- 
gion is wearisome to me, and strange. It is as much as I can 
do to stay through a High Mass." IsTo matter, 1 say once 
more. Do you want to have faith? Are you willing to 
practise what you do believe ? Then if you are, begin your 
work here and now. You cannot be of so rough a nature 
that Christ will reject you. No matter who you are and 
what you are, no matter what your trials have been, and 
what your past life, if you are a man, with a human heart, 
with human reason and a human will, Christ calls you by 
your name, and points out a way that will lead you to peace 
and heaven. 

But least of all do they understand the nature of the 
Christian life, who make temptation an apology for sin ; who 
excuse themselves for a wrong action by simply saying, " I 
w^as tempted." -Far be it from me, my bretliren, to under- 
value the danger of temptation, or to forget the frailty of the 
human heart, or to lack compassion for the fallen ; but it is 
one thing to fall and bewail one's fall, and another to make 
the temptation all but a justification of the fall. And are 
there not some who do this? who do not seek temptation, 
but invariably yield to it when it comes across them ? who 
only steal when some trifle falls in their way ; who only 
curse when they are angry ; who only neglect Mass when 
they feel lazy and self-indulgent ; and are always sober and 
chaste except when the occasion invites to libertinism and 



THE TWO WILLS IN MAN. ' 887 

intemperance? What! is this Christianity? To abstain 
from sin as long as we have no particular inclination* 
to commit it, and to fall into it as soon as we havel 
O miserable man, O miserable woman, go and learn the 
very first principles of the doctrine of Christ. Go to the 
Font of Baptism, and ask why you renounced Satan, and 
promised to keep God's commandments. Go to the Bible 
and learn why Christ died, and what is the duty of His fol- 
lowers. Temptations come upon you in order that you may 
resist them. Tou are subject to gusts of anger, in order 
that you may become meek. You are tempted to unchastity, 
in order that you may become pure. Tou are tempted 
against faith, that you may learn to believe. That you are 
tempted, is precisely the reason that you should not yield ; 
for it shows that your hour is come, and the question is 
whether you will belong to Christ or Satan. 

Yes, my brethren, our conflict is for the trial of our virtue. 
It is a universal law of humanity. It was so even in the 
garden of Eden. In the fields of Paradise, where the trees 
were in their fresh verdure, and the air brea'thed a perpetual 
spring, and all things spoke of innocence and peace, there 
Adam had to meet this trial. And each child of man since 
then has met it in his turn. And Christians must meet it 
too. In the sheltered sanctuary of the Church, where we 
have so many privileges, so much to strengthen and gladden 
us, even there each one must abide the test. As the Ca- 
naanite was left in the promised land, to keep the children 
of Israel in vigilance and activity, so the sting of the flesh, 
the power of our inferior nature, is left in the baptized, to 
school us in virtue, to make us men, to make us Christians, 
to make us saints. This is the foundation principle of re- 
ligion. He who has learnt this, has found out the riddle of life. 

And now, my brethren, that I have explained to you the 
source of the conflict that we feel within us, and the purpose 
it is designed to answer, you will see what the result of it 



388 THE TWO WILLS IN MAN, 

must be, how it issues in the two eternities that are before ns. 
^'He that sowetJi in his fleshy ofthefiesh also shall rearp corrujh 
tion / hut he that soweth in the Spirit^ of the Spirit shall reap 
life everlasting^^ The Judgment Day is but the revelation 
of the faitlifulness or unfaithfulness of each one of us in the 
struggle to which he has been called. Every act, every 
choice we make, tells for that great account. The day will 
declare it. Then the secret of each man's heart shall be re- 
vealed, and how that battle in his heart has been fought. 
Oh, what a spectacle must this world present to the angels 
who look down upon the solemn strife that is going on here 
below!' There is a man who has ceased to strive. No 
longer making any resistance, he is led on wholly and com- 
pletely by his inferior nature. The slave of sin, he hardly 
feels the conflict in his soul, but it is because the voice of 
reason and the voice of grace have been so long resisted that 
they have become almost silent. And there are others who 
have given up the pure strife, but not so determinedly, not 
so completely. Occasionally they have better moments, 
regrets for the good they have forsaken, but still they float 
on with the careless world. And there is the young girl 
taking her first step on the downward road, looking back to 
the father's house she is leaving, reluctant, but consenting. 
Then there is the penitent, who has fallen but risen again ; 
who has learned wariness from his fall, and new confidence 
in God from His mercy and goodness, and who is striving 
by penance and prayer to make up what he has lost. And 
there is the man with feeble will, ever sinning and ever 
lamenting his sin, divided between good and evil, with too 
much conscience to give free reins to his passions, and too 
little to master them completely. And there is the scul 
Beverely tried, still struggling but almost overwhelmed, and 
out of the depths calling upon God the Holy and True, '^ In- 

♦ GaL vi. 8. 



THE TWO WILLS IN MAN. 389 

dine unto mine aid^ GodP And there is the soul strong 
in virtue, strong in a thousand victories, whieli stands un- 
moved amid temptations, like the deep-rooted tree in a storm, 
or like the rock beaten bj the waves. Oh, yes, in the sight 
of the angels, this world is full of interest. There is nothing 
here trivial and common-place. What prophecies of the 
future must they not read! What saints do they see, ripen- 
ing for Heaven ! What sinners rushing madly to Hell ! 
What unlooked-for falls! What unexpected conversions! 
What hidden sins, unsuspected by the world ! Now they 
must rejoice, and now they must weep. Now they tremble 
over some soul in danger, and now they exult because the 
danger is over. So it is now ; but when the end shall come, 
then fear and hope shall be no more, the conflict will be 
ended, the books shall be opened, and the secrets of the heart 
published to the universe. The struggle of life will be past, 
only its results will remain — two separate bands, one on 
either side of the Judge, the good and the wicked, those who 
have been true to their conscience, to reason, to grace, and 
those who have not. 

Well, then, we will strive manfully against sin. There are 
untold capacities in us for good and evil. God said to Ee- 
becca : ^' Two nations are in thy worab^ and twojyeojples shall 
he divided out of thy womb^ and one people shall overcome the 
other. '^'^ ^ So, my brethren, in each heart there are two pow- 
ers struggling for the mastery — the Spirit and the Flesh, 
'^iere are two sets of oiFspring struggling for the birth — 
'^ the works of the flesh, which are immodesty, uncleanliness, 
fornication, enmities, wrath, envies, emulations, quarrels, 
murders, drunkenness, revellings; and the works of the 
spirit, which are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, faith, 
modesty, continence, chastity." It is for the will, with and 
under God's grace, to say which of these shall overcome the 

♦ Gen. XXV. 23. 



3^0 THE TWO WILLS IN MAN 

other. Do you say that I put too much on the will ? that 
the will is too weak to decide this fearful contest? O 
brethren, the will is not weak. On the side of God, and 
with the help of God, it is irresistible. Look at the martyrs' 
will. Did it not carry them through fire and sword ? Did 
it not enable them to meet death with joy? This is our 
mistake, we do not know our strength. We know our weak 
ness, but we do not know our strength. We think God is to 
help us, independently of ourselves, and not through our- 
selves. But this is not so, God helps us by strengthening 
our will, by enlightening our reason,^ by directing our con- 
science. We cannot distinguish between what God does and 
what we do in any act. The two act together. Therefore, I 
say, you have it in your power to resist sin, you have it in 
your power to become saints. No matter though your evil 
dispositions have been increased by past sins, you can over- 
come evil habits, and be what God wills you to be. Only do 
not be contented with a superficial religion, a religion of feel- 
ings, and frames, and sensible consolations. Go down deep, 
go down to the will. Let the sword of the Lord probe till 
it pierces even "to the division of the soul and the spirit," 
the point at which our higher and lower natures meet each 
other. Make your religion not a sham, but a reality. School 
yourself for heaven. Day by day fight the good figlit of 
faith, and thus merit at last to die like a holy man at whose 
death St. Vincent of Paul assisted : " He is gone to heaven," 
said the saint, speaking of M. Sillery, ''like a monarch 
going to take possession of his kingdom, with a strength, a 
confidence, a peace, a meekness, which cannot be expressed." 



THE DTTERCESSION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN. 391 



SERMON XVIII. 

THE INTERCESSION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN THE HIGHEST 

POWER OF PRAYER. 

(STTNDAY WITHIN THE OCTAVE OF THE ASCENSION.) 

" If you remain in me, and my words remain in you, ye shall ask whatever 
you will, and it shall be done to you." — John xy. 1. 

There is perhaps no Catholic doctrine which meets with 
more objection among those outside the Church, than our 
devotion to the Blessed Virgin. Expressions of love to her, 
of hope in her intercession, which seem to us perfectly natu- 
ral, which come from our hearts spontaneously, when they 
are most under the influence of Christian and holy principles, 
seem to them altogether at variance with Christianity. I do 
not believe that this comes always from prejudice, and a 
spirit of opposition on their part. It comes often, I am per- 
suaded, from not understanding us. There is a link in our 
minds which connects this practice with other Christian doc- 
tricies, and this link is wanting in theirs; and therefore acts 
of devotion of this kind seem to them arbitrary and useless, 
an excrescence on Christianity, and even alien to its spirit. 
If this is the case^ it cannot but be a duty and charity for us 
to explain, as far as possible, what is in the mind of a Catho- 
lic when he prays to the Blessed Virgin ; and I shall accord- 
ingly attempt to do so this morning. Perhaps w^hile w^e are 
thus removing a stumbling-block out of some erring brother's 
way, we shall be at the 'same time rendering our own ideas 
on this doctrine clearer, and its practice more intelligent. 

The Blessed Virgin Mary, then, to a Catholic, represents 
the power of intercessory prayer in its highest form and 
degree. 

I believe there are very few persons, indeed, who realize 
i^t all tlie power w^hich is attributed to intercessory prayer in 



392 THE INTERCESSION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN 

the Bible and in Christianity. The Apostles frequently ex- 
hort the Christians to whom they are writing to pray for 
them. They enjoined it upon them as a duty to pray for 
one another. What does this mean ? Had not St. Paul and 
St. Peter influence enough with Heaven to carry their wants 
directly to the throne of grace ? Was not the way of access 
to God open and easy for every one ? Did God require to be 
reminded of the woes and wants of any child of man, by the 
sympathizing cries of his fellow-creatures? Was not God's 
own jieart as large as theirs? Could any thing He had made 
escape His knowledge, or any sorrow fail to awaken His 
compassion ? Or, if it did, was the intercession of Christ in- 
sufficient that any otlier had to be called in to supplicate? 
No, certainly. None of these suppositions are true. God's 
goodness and knowledge are infinite. He needs not to be 
told what is in man. He loves the work of His hands. The 
meanest and the poorest are in the light of His Providence. 
Christ's merits are infinite and universal. Bat after all, there 
s-tands the fact. Intercessory prayer is an ordinance of God. 
It is a duty to pray for others, and it is useful to have others 
pray for us. You may call it a mystery if you like. To 
me, it does not seem so very wonderful. No man lives to 
himself. We are not the only Christians. Many others 
walk alongside of us on the road to Heaven. Many are 
ahead of us. Many have already reached their term. Shall 
there be no sympathy between us? Is that principle so 
deeply seated in our nature to have no play in Christianity ? 
Are we to have no interest, no feeling for each other? Or, 
is that sympathy to be a barren sentiment, and to have no 
results? God, in religion, makes use of and commands this 
kindness and sympathy. He makes use of it to bind all men 
together in a bond of love. In order to this, He makes it a 
law thatwe shall pray for one another, and suspends His gifts 
upon its execution. It is, then, to meet that nature that He 
has framed— it is to exalt that nature craving for sympathy - 



THE HIGHEST POWER OF PRAYER. 393 

it is to give rein to charity — it is to make us always sensible 
and mindful of that great human family to which we belong — 
it is for these reasons, I conceive, that God has instituted the 
ordinance of intercessory prayer. But, explain it as you 
will, the fact cannot be denied. It is an appointment of 
God, and an appointment of great eflficacy. It plays a large 
part in the history of the Bible. Elias was a man subject to 
like passions with us, and he prayed earnestly that it might 
not rain, and it rained not for three years and six months ; 
and he prayed again, and the heavens gave rain. Abraham 
prayed for Abimelcch, and God healed him. When Moses 
prayed for the Israelites suffering under the fire with which 
God had visited them for their sins, the fire was quenched. 
In the prophet Ezechiel, God speaks as if he could not act 
without this intercession — as if it were really a necessary con- 
dition for the bestowal of His graces. '' I sought among 
them for a man^'^ he says, " that might stand in the gap he- 
fore me^ in favor of the land^ that I might not destroy it^ and 
I found noneP"^ St. James even seems to make salvation 
depend on intercessory prayer. '^ Pray for one another ^'^ is his 
language, '^ that ye may he saved,\ These are but a sample of 
the many Scriptural proofs that might be brought to show that 
intercessory prayer is an ordinance of God. It is one of the 
forms in which the goodness of God and the merits of Christ 
flow over upon us. By it we obtain graces from God much 
more easily than we could without it. And we obtain by it 
special graces, which we would not be likely to obtain at all 
without it. In this sense, perhaps, St. James meant to imply 
that it was necessary to our salvation. Not that it was a 
matter of precept to' ask the prayers of this or that particular 
person, but that their intercession might be the condition of 
our obtaining graces without which our salvation would be 

a work of great difficulty. 

But this is not all that the Scriptures tell us about inter 

* Ezechiel xxii. 30. f St. James v. IQ. 



394 THE INTEKCESSION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN 

cessoiy prayer. They not only declare its wonderful power, 
but they make known to us that the efficacy of intercessory 
prayer depends on the goodness and merit before God of the 
one who offers it. I do not mean that no one should pray 
for another unless he is very holy. By no means. No mat 
ter how great a sinner a man may be, it is a good tiling for 
him to pray for others, and the mercy and compassion of 
God, I am sure, never turn away from such a petition. But 
then, in such a case, it is mercy and compassion which moves 
God to hear the prayer. In the case of a good man praying 
for another, there is a sort of claim that he should be heard. 
Not an absolute claim, by which he can demand any thing 
for another, as of right, but a claim of fitness, a claim as if 
between friend and friend, a claim on God's bounty and gen- 
erosity, which will not allow Him to turn a deaf ear to one 
who is faithfully striving to serve Him. The passages of in- 
spiration which express this are very clear and very strong. 
" The continual prayer of a just man availeth mxicTi^^ There 
it is the prayer of a righteous man that has this efficacy. And 
to this agree the words of our Lord : ^^ If ye remain in ine^ and 
my words remain in you^ ye shall aslc whatever ye will^ and 
it shall he done unto you,^^\ Could words express more 
clearly that the power of intercessory prayer is in direct 
proportion to the closeness of the union which we maintain 
'with God? And St. John reiterates the same principle 
when he says : " Whatsoever we shall ash we shall receive of 
Him^ hecause we Tceev his commandments, ind do those things 
that are jpleasing in His sight^X God's dealings, as recorded 
in the Bible, are in exact accordance with this rule. At the 
prayer of Abraham, God desisted from* His purpose of de- 
stroying Sodom, because Abraham was God's friend. AVhen 
the three friends of Job had displeased God by their wrong 
judgments and unjust suspicions, God commanded them to 
go to His servant Job^ and he would pray for them, and him 

♦ St, James y. \^. \ John xv. T, % I, St. John iii 22, 



THE HIGHEST POWER OF PRATER. 895 

He would accept. And in the prophet Ezechiel, when tlie 
Ahnighty would express, in the strongest possible manner, 
the fact that His anger was enkindled against a people and 
a city; that nothing, however strong, should stay its effects. 
He says : " And if these three men^ Noe^ Daniel and Joh^ 
shall ie in it^ they shall deliver their own souls only by 
their justicey^ As if to say: ^^ Notwithstanding the inter- 
cession and merit of these great saints, even though they 
were all combined in favor of that one city, the}^ should 
not avail to make Me spare such wickedness. What must 
be the wickedness that can force Me to withstand the power 
of such an appeal ?" 

Here, then, we have two things clearly taught in Holy 
Scripture. One is that intercessory prayer is an ordinance of 
God of great power and utility. The other is, that the degree 
of power this prayer has in any particular case depends on 
the merit of him who offers it. Who, then, shall be the 
favored child of man, the favored saint, who shall exercise 
this power in the fullest degree ? Of whom it can be said 
literally, ''Whatever thou askest of Me I will do it," because 
the condition of union with God is perfectly fulfilled ? Who 
shall this be whom Holy Scripture thus clothes with this tre- 
mendous power, if it be not the Blessed Yiigm Mary ? My 
brethren, our belief in the surpassing sanctity of the Blessed 
Virgin is no fancy of later times. It goes back to the very 
beginning of Christianity. St. Ambrose wrote her praises as 
he had learned them from those who had received them from 
apostolic men. Grave, austere men, as far as possible 
removed from any thing like fancy religion or sentimentality, 
men who had suffered for the name of Christ, and even faced 
death in its defence, employed their art and care to coin 
words which might express the virtue and purity and ex- 
ceeding sanctity of the Yirgin Mary, as they had learned it 
from their forefathers. And in the most ancient writings of 
the Church, in the Canon of the Mass, when the priest recalls 

* Ezechiel xiv. 14. 



896 THE INTERCESSION" OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN 

by name the glorious army of Christian heroes who had gone 
before, always in the first place she is mentioned, the all- 
glorious, undefiled, immaculate Mary, Mother of God, and 
ever Virgin. This being so, is not her power of intercession 
fixed beyond dispute ? Does not Scripture itself fashion out 
for her the glorious throne on which the Catholic Church 
places her? Did any remain in Christ as she did? Did 
His words ever so abide in any heart as in hers? Suppose a 
Christian who lived in the times of the Apostles, before the 
Blessed Virgin had gone to her rest, when she was just 
dying; suppose such a one sorely tried and tempted within 
and without; suppose him anxious about his salvation, dis- 
trustful of his own petitions, fearful of the coming storms of 
persecution ; and suppose him in this state of mind to have 
read that passage of St. James, " The continual prayer of a 
just nian availeth much," what more natural than that he 
should have said to himself, " I will go to ask the prayers of 
the dear Mother of Christ. I will ask her to use her power 
and infl.uence with her Divine Son in behalf of a frail wan- 
derer like me." And when he came into her presence and 
knelt before her, and kissed her hand and made his plea, and 
looked up to her and saw that sweet grave smile, and heard 
her say, " Yes, my child, when I stand in the presence of my 
Royal Son, and He holds out to me the golden sceptre, and 
says to me, what wilt thou ? what is thy request ? then I 
will remember thee !" Oh ! how light his heart ! Oh, how 
strong his soul ! what a charm against sadness! what a for- 
tress in temptation ! Mary prays for me in heaven to Christ 
her Son ! And is there any thing in this joy and confidence 
which reason or Christianity would condemn ? If so, it must 
be either that intercessory prayer is not the power the Scrip- 
tures say it is, or that Mary is not the saint the Church con- 
siders her. Why, even Protestants have gone as far as this. 
Protestants who have made the primitive form of Christianity 
their study and profess to accept it as their rule, as, for 



THE HIGHEST POWER OF PRAYER. 897 

example, Higli-Church Episcopalians, have distinctly ac- 
knowledged in the seventeenth century, and in our own day, 
that the saints in heaven do intercede for us, and that this 
was the primitive doctrine of Christianity. Why, then, find 
fault with us for invoking the saints, and say we ought only 
to ask God to hear their prayers for us, as if invocation on our 
part were not the correlative of intercession on theirs ; as if it 
could be right to ask a saint to pray for us the moment be- 
fore he died, and wrong the moment after ; as if there could 
be any moral difference before God between a direct and an 
indirect supplication for the benefit of their prayers in 
heaven ? 

Such, my brethren, is our idea when we address the 
Blessed Virgin for aid. It is not that we cannot go directly 
to God. It is not that God is not the nearest to us, and at all 
times accessible. It is not that, sinful as we are, we may not go 
with our miseries into the very presence of the Almighty. 
It is not that prayer to God is not the best of all prayers. It 
is not that we put the Blessed Virgin in tlie place of God. O 
cruel charge ! It is not that we derogate from the merits of 
Christ. O strange misconception ! But it is this — we 
believe in intercessory prayer. We believe that man may 
help his brother. We believe that Christianity is a human 
and a social relation ; we believe that heaven is very near this 
eaxth — oh, how much nearer than ever we believed ! and 
that in Christ we are in communion with an innumerable 
company of angels, and the Church of the First-born. We 
believe that there is joy in the presence of the angels of God 
over the good deeds done on earth, and that the litanies of 
the saints ascend over one sinner and his deeds. And we 
believe that this power of intercessory prayer culminates in 
the Blessed Virgin. We believe that she is the " one unde- 
filed," whose way has been always in the law of the Lord, 
We believe that before the foundations of the earth were laid, 
or ever the earth and the sea were made, she was foreknown 



398 THE INTEECESSION OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN. 

by the Almighty, spotless in purity, matchless in vh*tue. Wo 
believe that she was the flower of humanity, the fairest type 
of Christianity — and we believe, therefore, that God is as 
good as His word, and whatever she asks of Him, He gives it 
to her. This is the doctrine on which we found our devotion 
to the Blessed Virgin. Take our strongest language. It 
means no more than this : " Pray for me." You may 
amplify as you will, but from the necessity of the case every 
thing we say comes to that. Put prayer for the Blessed Vir- 
gin, suppose prayer personified in her, and you have the key 
to the Catholic doctrine on this subject. Strong things are 
said of the power of the Blessed Virgin, but so are strong 
things said in Holy Scripture and by holy men of the power 
of prayer. Whatever can be said of prayer, can be said of 
her. Cease, then, to misunderstand us. Acknowledge that 
we are but obeying Christ in praying to the Blessed Virgin. 
And if you. will still find fault, find fault, not with us, but 
with God, who has instituted intercessory prayer and given 
such power to men. 

And for you, my brethren, let these thoughts strengthen 
you in your confidence in the powerful intercession of the 
Mother of God. Our work is too severe, our difficulties are 
too great, for us to neglect any help God has offered us. 
There are many adversaries. The world, with all its seduc- 
tions, passes in array before us. Why should we shut our 
eyes to the hosts of heaven that march unseen by our side? 
Why should we stay outside when we are invited to the mar- 
riage supper, and Jesus and His disciples are there, and Mary, 
pleader for heavy hearts, saying, " They have no wine ;" and 
at her prayer Jesus gives them that wine that maketh glad 
the heart of man with the abundance of His grace and love ? 
I have been glad to see you these bright May mornings 
around the altar. Persevere more and more. Your labor of 
love is not in vain. God's words cannot fail. His gifts are 
without repentance. Mary's power of intercession is as fresh 



MYSTERIES IN RELIGION. 399 

this day as it was when her praj^er made the miraculous wine 
to gush forth at the wedding feast ; and until some one shall 
arise more blessed, more holy, nearer to Christ than she, it will 
remain as it is now, the highest and the most efficacious of all 
forms of prayer in heaven or on earth. 



SERMON XIX. 

MYSTERIES IN RELIGION 

(trinity SUNDAY.) 

" Oh, the dooths of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How 
incomprehensible are His judgments, and how unsearchable are His ways !'* — 
Rom. XI. 33. 

The word revelation means the discovery of something 
that was not known before, or the making clear something 
that was obscure. Now, with this idea in our mind, it may 
excite surprise to find how much the Christian Revelation 
abounds in mysteries. By mysteries, I understand truths 
which are imperfectly comprehended. A doctrine which 
contradicts reason is not a mystery : it is nonsense. A doc- 
trine which is wholly unintelligible is not a mystery : it is 
simply unmeaning, and cannot be the object of any intellect- 
ual act on our part. But a doctrine which is in part com- 
prehended, and in part riot, is a mystery. Now, in Christians 
ity we meet such mysteries on every side. The Sacraments 
are mysteries. Grace is a mystery. The Person of Christ is 
a mystery. And above all, the great doctrine we com- 
memorate to-day is a mystery. To-day is the Feast of the 
Most Holy Trinity. To-day we call to mind that wonderful 
Relationship which exists in God, eternal and necessary, by 
which, m the undivided Unity of His Essence, there are three 
distinct naodes of subsistence, the Father, the Son, and the 



400 MYSTERIES IN BELIGION. 

Holy Ghost. It seems, then, not unfitting on this day to give 
you some reasons why you should acquiesce in that mys- 
teriousness of Christian doctrine, which is certainly one of its 
marked characteristics, and which has been urged against it 
as a serious objection. 

Andy first, I observe that mysteries are necessary attend- 
ants on religion. There can be no revelation without them. 
There can indeed be no knowledge without them. To a little 
child the earth is a plane of no great extent, and the stars are 
colored lamps hung in the canopy of the night. But as he 
grows older, he learns that the earth is very big, and that the 
stars are very far off, and that there are many systems of 
worlds above us ; had now how many questions press them- 
selves upon his mind ! What is the history of this universe ? 
How old is the earth which we inhabit ? Are the stars inhab- 
ited ? Science wil^ the hard earnings of human thought and 
labor gives him some little satisfaction, but for every ques- 
tion that she sets at rest there are many new ones that she 
raises, and at last ;:i every department there comes a point 
where she gropes, and loses her way, and stops altogether. If 
you light a candle in a large room it casts a bright light 
on the table you ai'o sitting at, and on the pages of the book 
you are reading, but gives only a dim light in the distance. 
You see that there are pictures on the walls, but you cannot 
discover their sul* 'ects. You see there are books on the 
shelves, but you cannot read their titles. When the room 
was quite dark yua did not know that they were there at 
all, and now yon know them only imperfectly. So every 
light which knowledge kindles brings out a new set of mys- 
teries or half-know xcdges. For this reason it is that a man 
of true science is apt to be modest in his language. Your 
loud-talking philosopher, who has no difficulties, has but a 
very narrow scope ^f thought and vision. He is clear because 
he is shallow. Bi;t a highly educated man hiows that tliero 
are a great many things he is ignorant of, and so his lau- 



MYSTERIES IN RELIGION 401 

guage is modified and qualified. I believe it was Sir Isaac 
Newton who used to say, that in his scientific investigations 
he seemed to himself like a child gathering pebbles on the 
sea-shore. It was his vast attainments that made him sen- 
sible that Truth is as boundless as the sea. And when 
scientific men forget this ; when they forget how much they 
are ignorant of; when they are boastful, over-positive, or 
inconsiderate in their statements, how applicable to them 
becomes the reproof which the Almighty addressed to Job * 
" Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the 
^urth ? tell Me if thou hast understanding. Upon what 
are its iases grounded ? or who laid the corner-stone thereof? 
By what way is light sjpread^ and heat divided on the earth ? 
Who is the father of the rain^ or who hath begotten the 
drops of dew f Dost thou know the order of heaven^ and 
canst thou set down the reason thereof on the earth f Tell 
Me^ if thou knowest these things^ 

And this holds good just as well in regard to religious 
knowledge. Reason teaches us that there is a God, and it 
tells something of His l^ature; but it speaks to us about 
Him only in riddles. God is immutable, and yet He is per- 
fectly free : who shall reconcile these together? God is in- 
finite, infinite in Essence, infinite in all His Attributes — try 
to comprehend infinitude if you can. Again, what a mys- 
tery there is in the creation of this world ! What a mystery 
in the union of spirit and matter ! Everywhere mystery is 
the necessary accompaniment of knowledge ; and the more 
we know, the more mysteries will we have. If, then, God 
reveals to us any thing about Himself additional to that 
which reason can ascertain, mystery must still be the conse- 
quence. The wider the view, the more indistinct and shad- 
owy the outline. -It is revealed to us that in God, without 
injury to His Simplicity, there is a Threefold Relationship — 
that the Father, contemplating Himself from all eternity, 
has conceived a perfect Image of Himself, and that this Im- 



402 MYSTERIES IN KELIQION. 

age is His Son, and that the Father and the Son have loved 
each other from all eternity, and that this Love is the Holy 
Ghost — that thus the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost 
are Three distinct, eternal, necessary Subsistences. Do not 
be surprised at this. Here is nothing contradictory to reason. 
True, it is wonderful. True, you cannot pierce it through 
and through. It is full of darkness. No matter. You 
know, when the moon comes out from behind a cloud, how 
sharp and well-defined the shadows become. So these dark- 
nesses of doctrine come because the light is brighter. Men 
talk of the simple doctrines of the gospel. There are no 
such things. The gospel, as a scheme of doctrine at least, 
is a mystery. St. Paul called it so, and so it is. It is a mys- 
tery because it reveals so much. If we did not know that 
God is both One in substance and Three in the mode of sub- 
sistence, our difficulties w^ould be less, but so would our 
knowledge. Well does the prophet exclaim : ^' Verily^ 
Thou art a hidden God^ the God of Israel^ the Saviour .^" * 
"Wiiat, the God of Israel a hidden God ! Did He not mani- 
fest Himself to the patriarchs ? Did he not speak face to 
face with Moses ? Yes, but He is all the more hidden, the 
more He has manifested Himself It cannot be otherwise. 
God yearns to make Himself known to man, but He cannot. 
The secret is too deep and high. Language is too weak. 
Thought too slow. Eeason too narrow. The very means 
He takes to reveal Himself conceal Him. Clouds and dark- 
ness gather around Mount Sinai as He descends upon it. 
The Flesh in which He was '' manifested" to men serves as 
a veil to His Divinity. No, we cannot find out the Almighty 
to perfection. The time w^ill come in heaven when by the 
Light of Glory our intellects shall be marvellously strength- 
ened, and we shall see Him "' as He is " — but now we see as 
ihroiigh a glass darkly. Our utmost happiness here is that 

♦ loai, ;dv, 15. 



MYSTERIES IN RELIGION. 403 

of Moses, to be hidden in tlie rock, while the Ahnightj 
passes by and lifts His Hand that we may see a ray of His 
Glory. Do not complain if the ray dazzles thy feeble sight, 
but receive each glimpse of that Eternal Truth and Beauty 
thankfully, and give heed unto it. " as unto a light shining 
in a dark place. ^^ 

But, further, mysteries are not only necessary attendants 
on revelation, they are really sources of advantage to us. 
In order to make this clear, I must remind you that Faith is 
one of the conditions of our acceptance with God. There 
was a time when men laid too much stress on faith and made 
light of works ; then the Church had to define that works 
are necessary, and that there is no salvation without them. 
Now the contrary error is afloat. Men say : " Be moral," 
" Be religions in a general way, and it is no matter what 
a man believes." Now, this is an error as great and as 
dangerous as the other. " Abraham Relieved God^ and it was 
reputed to him unto justice. ^^"^ The apostles believed Christ. 
and were praised for it. On the other hand, those who 
disbelieved are reproved as being guilty of a mortal fault. 
" The heart of this people is grown gross : and with their 
ears they have heen dull of hearing^ and their eyes they have 
shut : lest at any time they should see with their eyes^ and 
hear with their ears^ and understand with their hearty and 
should be converted^ and I should heal them.^^-f In like man- 
ner, when our Lord took leave of unbelieving Jerusalem, 
He wept over it. Now, why is this ? What is there, in tke 
act of believing or disbelieving, that is of a moral nature, 
that deserves praise or blame? Is not faith an act purely 
intellectual? I reply, faith is an act partly intellectual, 
partly moral. The intellect demands proof that a particular 
doctrine has been revealed by God, but, when that is once 
ascertained, faith accepts the doctrine, not because it is per 

♦ Rom. iv. 3. f St. Matt. xiiL 16» 



404 MYSTERIES IN RELIGION. 

fectly clear in itself, but because God reveals it. Clearly, 
there enter into such an act many elements of morality — our 
reverence tov God, our desire to do His Will, our humility 
and docility. Tou know it is an honor to a man for one to 
believe in his word, and especially for one to make ventures 
on the faith of his word. Just so, to make ventures on God's 
word is a generous, devout, and noble act. Now, it is the 
mysteriousness of Christian doctrine that gives faith this gen- 
erous character — or rather, that makes faith possible. The 
obscurity of the revelation throws the weight on the author- 
ity of the Revealer. It is mystery which gives life to faith. 
A man is not said to helieve a thing he sees. " Blessed are 
they^'^ said our Blessed Lord, ^' that have not seen^ and yet 
have helievedP'^ There are certain flowers that require the 
shade to bloom. Constant sunshine burns them up. So 
Faith requires the shadow of mystery. It thrives under 
diflSculties. Abraham's faith was so admirable, because he 
considered not his own decrepitude, nor Sarah's barrenness, 
but believed he should have a son at the time appointed by 
the Almighty. The faith of the apostles was so pleasing to 
Christ because they accepted His call so readily. , They 
might have stopped to ask a thousand questions, but they 
rose up without delay and followed him.. 

You see, then, what I meant when I said that mysteries are 
'of advantage to us. They enter into our probation. They 
are the occasion of our practising the noble virtue of faith^ 
They are a test of moral character. Nay more, by calling 
into action the best principles of our nature they exalt our 
character. You know how it is in the world when some new 
and great social question is started — how every one is afifected 
by it. The indolent take their opinions about it from others. 
The prejudiced and interested judge of it according to preju- 
dice and interest. Men of principle decide it on grounds of 

* St. John XX. 29. 



MYSTERIES IN RELIGION. 405 

morality. But every one's position is in some way changed 
by it. So it is with the gospel. Its preaching throws men 
into new attitudes. ^^ The Gross of Christ is to them' that 
perish foolishness^ hut to them that are saved it is the power 
of Godr^ The proud and the perverse stumble at tHis stum- 
bling-stone, but men of '' good will," the humble, and the 
loving, find it a precious corner-stone on which their faith 
has a solid foundation, and on which they are built up to 
everlasting life. So it was in the time of Christ. After our 
Lord had been preaching for some time. He inquired of the 
apostles into the effects of His preaching : '' Whom do men 
sa^y that the Son of Man is f'^ And they said: ''Some say 
that thou art John the Baptist^ and others Elias^ and others 
Jeremias^ or one of the prophets.'^'' " But whom do you say 
that I am-V^^ — and Faith, undaunted by difficulties, answers 
by the mouth of St. Peter: '' Thou art Christy the Son of the 
living God^'^ On another occasion, after He had performed the 
miracle of the multiplication of the loaves, as we read in St 
John's Gospel, He taught the people the doctrine of the Eeal 
Presence in Holy Communion : '' Unless you eat the flesh of 
the Son ofMan^ and drinh His Mood^ you shall not have life 
in you.^'^X Now, what happened ? Many were offended and 
walked with Him no more. It was too great a mystery. 
''How can this man give us his flesh to eat .^" they said. And 
our Lord turned to His disciples and said — it seems to me I 
can see His anxious countenance, and hear His tones of sorrow 
as He asks the question — '' Will you also go away .^" And 
again Peter answered on behalf of all : "To whom shall we go ? 
Thou hast the words of Eternal Life^ As much as to say, 
" Thou art the Truth ; no mystery at Thy mouth can deter us." 
So it has been, also, throughout the history of the Church. 
Wliat are all the heresies that have arisen but the scandal 
which the world has taken at the Christian mysteries, and 

* L Or. I 18. t St. Matt. xvi. 13. % St. John vi. 54. 



406 MYSTERIES IN RELIGION. 

what are all the decisions of the Church but acts of loyalty 
and submission to Him who is ''the Faithful and True Wit- 
ness"*? 

And the same thing is going on in our day. '' Wisdom 
jpTeacTietk abroad : she uttereth her voice in the streets.^ The 
Catholic Church publishes those startling doctrines which 
have come down to her from the beginning, which have been 
held everywhere and by all — the principality of the Roman 
See, the Power of Forgiveness of Sins, the necessity of Pen- 
ance, the grace of the Sacraments — and what is the result ? 
The children of wisdom, they whose hearts are tender, enter 
her sacred fold and are blessed. But many listen and say : 
" It is all very well, if we could believe it. If we could 
believe it ! And is it, then, not credible ? Has not God 
given His revelation complete credibility ? Can we not 
believe Jesus Christ ? " God^ Who in times past spoke to 
the fathers hy the prophets^ hath in these days spohen unto 
us hy His Sony\ '' JVo one hnoweth the Father hut the Son 
and he to whom the Son will reveal Ilim,'^''}^ Jesus Christ liaa 
spoken. Miracles and prophecy attest His Truth and Au- 
thorit}^ Can you, then, innocently refuse to listen? ''Sure- 
ly they will reverence my son^^^ was the language of the 
father in the parable ; will not God the Father Almighty 
look for an equal submission to His Eternal and Coequal 
Son ? Can He speak, and you go on as if He had not 
spoken ? Can you pick and choose among His doctrines, 
and take up one and reject another? No, to turn back, to 
stand still, to falter, is a crime. The trumpet has sounded: 
men are marshalling themselves for the valley of decision. 
Oh, take your part with the generation of faithful men, the 
true children of Abraham, who have " attested by their seal 
that God is true." Have courage to believe. Plunge into 
the waters with St. Peter, for it is Christ that is beckoning 
you on. To believe is an act of duty- -of fidelity to youi 

* Prov. L 20. t tle^). i. I, 2. X Matt. xi. 2t. 



MYSTERIES IN RELIGION. 407 

own intelligence, of generosity and devotion to God. " With 
out faith it is not possible to please Ood,'^'^^ Faith is the dooi 
to all supernatural blessings. There is a whole world that 
exists not to a man that has not faith. Faith enlarges our 
thoughts, opens our hearts, elevates us above ourselves and 
multiplies a thousand-fold our happiness. Why do men 
grope in darkness ? Why do they remain in ignorance, when 
by one generous resolve, one courageous act of faith, an act 
so noble, so meritorious, they might enter into that Glorious 
Temple of Truth that has come down out of heaven to man, 
might enter and dwell therein, and their hearts wonder and 
be enlarged? Happy those who can say with the Psalmist: 
''Thy testimonies are wonderful; ther-efore hath ray soul 
sought themy\ They are wonderful — they rest for their evi- 
dence on Thy Word and Thy Truth, therefore I believe them 
and love them, for to believe Thee is my first duty and my 
highest wisdom. 

Let not, then, the mysteries of our holy religion disturb us, 
my brethren, but rather let them make us rejoice. For what 
are they but the evidences of the greatness of our religion ? 
They do not repel, they attract us. We believe them on the 
authority of God, and we esteem it both a duty and a delight 
to do so. Neither are they all dark in themselves. Nay, 
they are only dark from excess of light. Each one of them 
has much that addresses itself to our understanding, much 
that enlists our affections. The angels in heaven worship 
the Trinity with devoutest adoration. " / saw the Seraphim^^'^ 
says the prophet, ''and they covered their faces and cried: 
Holy^ Holy^ Holy Lord God of Hosts P^% Incessantly sings 
the Church on earth: '^ Glory be to the Father, and to the 
Son, and to the Holy Ghost." There have been saints who 
so dwelt upon all that Faith teaches us of God, that they had 
to go by themselves, in quiet places, for their hearts were all 

♦ Heb. xi. 6. t Ps. cxviii 129. % Isal vl 3. 



408 THE WORTH Ot^ TH^ SOUL. 

but breaking with the sweet but awful sense of Sis Majesty. 
Let us, too, ]earn to love these mysteries and meditate on 
them. We live in the midst of great realities. " You are 
come to Mount Sion^ and to the city of the living God^ the 
heavenly Jerusalem^ and to the company of many thousands 
of angels^ and to the Church of the first-horn^ who are written 
in heaven^ and to God the Judge of all^ and to the spirits of 
the just made perfect^ and to Jesus ^ the Mediator of the Neio 
restamentP "^ Day by day, let it be our endeavor to pierce 
into these holy truths more and more, that at last, like Moses, 
our countenances may reflect some portion of their beauty 
and brightness, that continually " beholding the glory of the 
Lord we may he transformed into the same image from glory 
to gloryy\ 



SERMON XX. 

THE WORTH OF THE SOUL. 

(third SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST.) 

" There shall be joy before the angels of God over one sinner doing penance." 

St. Luke xv. 10. 

This is what theologians call an accidental joy. The 
essential joy of heaven consists in the perfect knowledge and 
love of God, and is unchangeable and eternal ; but the acci- 
dental joy of heaven springs from the knowledge of those 
events in time which display the goodness and greatness of 
God. The first of these events was the creation itself, when 
the hand of God spread the carpet of the earth, and stretched 
the curtains of the heavens. Then " the morning stars 

« Heb. zil 22, 23, 24. f IL Cor. ill 18. 



•mK WOUTII OF THE SOUL. 409 

praised Him together^ and all the sons of God made a joyful 
melody '' ^ After this tlie great historic events of the world 
have been successively the burden of the angelic songs — the 
unfolding of the plan of Redemption, the birth of Christ, the 
triumphs of the Church. But lo ! of a sudden these lofty 
strains are stopped. There is silence for a moment, and then 
the golden harps take up a new and tenderer theme. What 
is it that has happened? What is the event that can inter- 
rupt the great harmonies of Heaven, and furnish the Angels 
with a new song ? In some corner of the earth, in some 
secret chamber, in some confessional, on some sickbed, in 
some dark prison, a sinner is doing penance. He prays, 
whose mouth had been full of cursings. He weeps, who had 
made a mock at sin. The slave of Satan and of Hell turns 
back to God and Heaven — and that is the reason of this un- 
usual joy. It is not that a recovered sinner is really of more 
account than one who has never fallen, but his recovery from 
danger is the occasion of expressing that esteem and love for 
the souls of men which always fills the heart of God and the 
Angels. Therefore, as that contrite cry reaches heaven, the 
Angels are silent, for they know that there is no music in the 
ear of God like that. And then, when God has ratified the 
absolving words of the priest, and restored the contrite sinner 
to His favor, they cast themselves before the throne, and 
break forth into loud swelling strains of ecstasy and triumph, 
while He Himself smiles His sympathy and joy. O my 
brethren, what a revelation this is! A revelation of the 
value of the soul. There are great rejoicings on earth when 
a battle is won, or upon the occasion of the vi^it of some 
great statesman or warrior, or when some great commercial 
enterprise is successful, but these things do not cause joy in 
Heaven. The conversion of one soul — ^it may be a child, or 
a young man, or an old woman — the conversion of one soul, 



410 THE WORTH OF THE SOUL. 

that it is tnat makes a gala day in Heaven. Now, God sees 
every thing just as it is, and if there are sucli rejoicings in 
Heaven when a soul is won, what must be the value of a soul ! 
Let us confess the trutli, we have not thought enough of the 
value of a soul. We have thought too much of the world, of 
its pleasures, of its profits, of its honors, but too little of our 
own souls. We have not thought of them as God thinks of 
them. Let us, then, strive to exalt our ideas, by considering 
some of the reasons why we should put a high value on our 
souls. 

In the first place, we should value a human soul, because 
it is in itself superior to any thing else in the world. The 
whole world, indeed, with every thing in it, is good, for God 
made it. But He proceeded in a very different manner in 
the creation of the material world from what He did when 
He made the soul. He made the world, the trees, the 
rivers, the lights of heaven, the living creatures on the 
earth, by the mere word of his power. " God said^ Be light 
made. And light was madeP ^ And God said, '^ Let the 
earth hring forth the green herb^ and the fridt tree yieldiiig 
fruit after its hind. And it wa^j .9(9." f But when He 
made the soul, the Scriptures tell us, ^^Ile hreathed into the 
face of man and he hecame a living soulp % By this action 
we are to understand that God communicated to man a 
nature kindred to his own divinityo The Holy Ghost, the 
Third Person of the Blessed Trinity, is the uncreated Spirit 
of God, eternally breathing forth and proceeding from the 
Father and the Son ; and God, when He breathed into the 
face of man, signified that He imparted to man a created 
spirit kindred to his own eternal Spirit. The Kolj^ Scriptures, 
indeed, expressly tell us that such was the case : '' Let us 
make man to our image and our likenessP § This likeness 
consisted in the possession of understanding and free will, 

♦ Gen. i. 3. \ Gen. I 12. % Gen. i. 26. § Gea i. 26, 2T. 



THE WORTH OF THE SOUL. 411 

the power of knowledge and love — the two great attributes 
of God himself. Y"ou are, then, my brethren, endowed with 
a soul which raises you immeasurably above God's material 
creation. You have a soul made after God's image. This 
is the source of your power. The two things go together in 
Holy Scripture. ^' Let its mcike man to our image and like-' 
ness / a7id let him have dominion over the fishes of the sea 
and the fowls of the air^ and the teasts^ and the whole earthy 
and every creejping creature that moveth upon the earthP * 
In the state of original innocence, no doubt, this dominion 
was more perfect, but even now it exists in a great degree. 
^^ Every hind of heast^ and of hirds^ and of serpents^ and of 
the rest^ is tamed^ and hath been tamed hy manlcind^ \ See 
how a little boy can drive a horse. See how a dog obeys 
his master's eye and voice. See how even lions and tigers 
become submissive to their keepers. And the elements, 
often wilder than ferocious beasts, are obedient to you. The 
fire warms you and cooks for you, and carries you when you 
want to travel for business or pleasure. The wind fans the 
sails of your vessels, and the waters make a path for them 
under your feet. Even the lightning leaps and exults to do 
your bidding and to be the messenger of your will. Thus 
every thing falls down before you and does you homage, and 
proclaims you lord and master. What is the reason that 
every thing thus honors you? It is on account of the soul 
that is in you — the pow'er of reason and will — the godlike 
nature with which you are endowed. 

Yes, and j^our soul is the source of your beauty, too. In 
what consists the beauty of a man ? Is it a mere regularity 
of form and feature? Do you judge of a man as you do of 
a horse or a dog ? No ; the most exquisitely chiselled features 
do not interest you, until you see intelligence light up the 
eye, and charity irradiate the countenance — then you are 

* GejL iL 7. \ St. James iii. t. 



412 THE WORTH OF THE SOUL. 

captivated. A man may be a perfect model of grace in his 
movements without exciting you, but when he becomes warm 
with inspirations of wisdom and virtue, when his words 
flow, his eye sparkles, his breast heaves, his whole frame 
becomes alive with the emotions of his soul, then it is yoi; 
are carried away, yon are ready almost to fall down and 
worship. What is the reason that Christian art has so far sur- 
passed heathen art ? that the Madonna is so far more beauti- 
ful than the Venus de Medicis ? It is because the heathens 
portrayed mere natural beauty ; the Christians portrayed 
the beauty of the soul. And if the soul is so beautiful in 
the little rays that escape from the body, what must it be in 
itself? God has divided his universe into several orders, 
and we find the lowest in a superior order higher than the 
highest in the inferior order. The soul, then, is more beau- 
tiful than any thing material. '' She is more heautiful than 
the sun, and above all the order of the stars : being com- 
pared with the light she is found before it^ ^ O ray 
brethren, do not admire men for their form, or their dress, 
or their grace, but admire them for the soul that is in them, 
for that is the true source of their beauty. 

It is also the secret of their destiny. God did not give 
you this great gift to be idle. He gave it for a worthy end. 
He gave understanding that you might know Him, and free 
will that you might love Him ; and this is the true destiny 
of man. You were not made to toil here for a few days, 
and then to perish. You were made to know God, to be the 
friend of God, the companion of God, to think of God, to 
converse with God, to be united to God here, and then to 
enjoy God hereafter forever. Once more, then, I say, do not 
admire a man for his wealth, or his appearance, or his learn- 
ing. Do not ask whether he is poor or rich, ignorant or 
learned, from what nation he springs, whether he lives in a 

♦ Wisdom vii. 29, 



THE WORTH OF THE SOUL. 413 

cabin or paiace. Let It be enougli that he is a man, pos- 
sessed of understanding and free will, spiritual and immortal, 
with a soul and an eternal destiny. That is enough. Bow 
down before hiin witli I'espect. Yes, respect yourselves — 
not for vour birtlj, or your station, or your wealth, but for 
your manhood. '' Lei not the wise man glory in his wis- 
dom^ and let not the strong man glory in his strength^ and 
let not the rich man glory in his riches. But let -him that 
gloricth glory In this, that he understandeth and knoweth 
Me." ^ Tee, my bretliren, this is your true dignity, the soul 
that is in you — the soul, that makes you capable of knowing 
and loving God. 

And yet, there is anotlier reason why you should value 
your souls, besides their intrinsic excellence — I mean, the 
great things that have been done for them. Do you ask me 
wliat lias been <loiie for your souls ? I ask you to look above 
you, and around you, and under you. Oh, how fair the 
earth is ! See these rivers and hills ! Look on the green 
grass ! Behold the blue vault of heaven ! Well, this is the 
palace God has prepared for your abode ; nay, not for your 
abode — your dwelling-place is beyond the skies, where " the 
light of the moon is as the light of the sun^ and the light of 
the sicn sevenfold^ as the light of seven days^'^ — ^but for the 
place of your sojourn. This earth was made for you ; and, 
as your destiny is eternal, therefore the earth must have been 
made to subserve your eternal destiny. Why does the sim 
rise in the morning, and go down at night ? It is for you^- 
for your soul. Why do summer and winter, seed-time and 
harvest, return so regularly % It is for you, and your salva- 
tion. The earth is for the elect. When the elect shall be 
completed, the earth, having done its work, will be destroyed 
This is the end to which, in God's design, all things ar^ 
tending. God does not look at the world, or its history, aa 

♦Jer,ix. 23, 24 



ii4 THE WORTH Oi^ THE SOUL. 

we do. We say : "Here such a great battle was fbiight 5^' 
" there such a celebrated man was born ;" " in this epoch 
ttuch an empire took its rise, such a dynasty came to an end." 
But God says: " Here it was a little child died after bap- 
tism, and went straight to heaven ;" " there it was I recov- 
ered that gifted soul, which had w^andered away into error 
and sin, but which afterward became so great in sanctity ;" 
"in such an age it was that I lost that great nation which 
fell away from the faith, and in such another, by the preach- 
ing of my missionary, I won whole peoples from heathen- 
ism." I know we shrink from this in half unbelief. When 
it is brought home to us that this little earth is the centre of 
God's counsels, and our souls of the universe, we are amazed 
and offended. But so it is. ''All thimgs ijoork together unto 
good to them that love God.'^'' "^ All things ; not blindly, but 
by the overruling Providence of Him who made them for 
this end. 

Do you ask me what has been done for your souls? I 
answer, the Church has been established for them. Look at 
the Church, and see how many are her officers and members 
— Bishops, Priests, Levites, Teachers, Students. All are 
yours — all are for you. For you the Pope sits on his throne; 
for you Bishops rule their Sees ; for you the Priest goes up 
to the altar ; for you the Teacher takes his chair, and the 
Student grows pale in the search for science. That the 
Apostolic commission might come down to you, St. Peter 
and St. Linus and Cletus ordained Bishops in the churches. 
That the true doctrine of Christ might come down to you 
uncorrupted, the Fathers of the Church gathered in councilj 
at Nice, and Ephesus, and Chalcedon, and Trent. That you 
might hear of the glad tidings of Christ, St. Paul and St. 
Patrick labored and died. For you, for each one of you, as 
if there w^ere no other, the great machinery of grace, if I may 
express myself so coarsely, goes on. 

♦Rom. viii. 28. 



THE WORTH OF THE SOUI* 415 

Do yon a?k what has been done for your souls? Angels 
and Archangels, and Thrones and Dominions, and Princi- 
palities and Powers — all the liosts of Heaven — have labored 
for them. '' Ave they net all ministering spirits^ sent to 
viinister for those who shall receive the inheritance of salva- 
tion?'^''^ For you the whole Court of Heaven is interested, 
and one bright particular Angel is commissioned to be youi 
guardian. For you St. Gabriel flew on his message of joy to 
the Blessed Virgin Mary, and St. Michael, the standard- 
bearer, waits at the gat(i of death. 

Do you ask what has been done for your souls? From all 
eternity God has thought of them, the means of salvation have 
been determined on, the chain of graces arranged. And the 
Son of God has worked for them. Galilee, and Judea, and 
Calvary were the scenes of His labors on earth, and on His 
mediatorial throne in heaven He carries on still His unceasing 
labors in our behalf. And the Holy Ghost has worked. He 
spake by the Prophets, and on the day of Pentecost He came 
to take up His abode in the Church, never to be overcome by 
error, or grieved away by sin, to vivify the Sacraments, and 
to enlighten the hearts of the faithful by the preaching of the 
Gospel and His own holy inspirations. 

Why, who are you, my brethren ? The woman at Endor, 
when she had pierced the disguise of Saul, and knew that she 
was talking with a king, was afraid, and ^' said with a loud 
voice : ' Why ha^t thou deceived me^for thou art Saul?^ "f 
So, I ask you, who are you ? I look upon your faces, and I 
see nothing to make me afraid ; but faith tears away the 
disguise, and I see each one of you radiant with light, a true 
prince, and an heir of heaven. I look above, and see Heaven 
open and the Angels of God ascending and descending on 
errands of which you are the object. I look higher yet, and 
I see God the Father watching jow. with anxiety, and the 

♦ Heb. i. 14. f I. Kings xxviiL 1 2. 



416 THE WORTH OF THE SOUL. 

Son offering his blood for j^ou, and the Holy Ghost | heading 
with you, and the Saints and Angels, some with folded hands 
Bupplicating for you, and others pointing with outstretched 
finger to the glorious throne reserved in Heaven for you. 

Have you, my brethren, so regarded yourselves ? Have 
you valued that soul of yours? Have you kept it as your 
most sacred treasure ? Is it now safe and secure ? Oh, how 
carefully do men keep a treasure they value highly ! Kings 
spend many thousand dollars yearly just to take care of a few 
jewels. The crown jewels of England are kept, as you know, 
in the Tower. It is a heavy fortress, guarded by soldiers whc 
are always on watch. At each door and avenue there is an 
armed sentinel. The jewels themselves are kept in glass 
cases, and visitors are not allowed to touch them. And all 
this pains and outlay to take care of a few stones that have 
come down to the Queen by descent, or been taken from her 
enemies ! And that precious soul of yours, before which all 
the wealth of the world is but worthless dross — with what 
care have you kept that ? Alas ! every door has been left 
open. No guard has been at your eyes to keep out evil 
looks. No guard at your ears to keep out the whispers of 
temptation. No guard at your lips to stop the way to the 
profane or filthy word. Nay, not only have you kept up no 
guard, but you have carried your soul where soul-thieves con- 
gregate. The Holy Scripture says : "A net is spread in vain 
before the eyes of a hirdP^ Yes, the birds and beasts are 
cunning enough to avoid an open snare; but you go rashly 
into dangers that are apparent to all but you. Sinners lie in 
wait for you. They say, in the language of Scripture : 
" Come^ let us lie in wait for hlood / let its hide snares for 
the innocent without cause. Let us swallow him up alive 
like hell^ and whole as one that goeth down into the jpiV^ — 
and you trust yourself in their power. Oh, fiy fix)m them I 

♦ Prov. i. 17. 



THE WORTH OF THE SOUL. 417 

Consider the treasure you carry. '^ What shall it ijrojtt a 
man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul V^ Will 
you sin against your own soul? you that are made after 
God's likeness ; you that are princely and of noble rank, will 
you defile that image, and degrade yourselves to a level with 
the brutes that perish ? 

But there are others whose ofi^ence is of another kind. 
They let their salvation go by sheer neglect. If a man plants 
a seed, he must water it, or it will not grow. So the soul 
needs the dew of God's grace; and prayer and the sacra- 
ments are the channels of God's grace. Yet how men neg- 
lect the sacraments! Even at Easter, when we are obliged 
to receive them, some absent themselves. It has been a 
matter of the keenest pain to us to miss some members of 
this congregation during the late Paschal season. You say, 
you have nothing on your conscience, and it is not necessary 
to go to confession. But is it not necessary to go to Commu- 
nion ? Will you venture to deprive yourselves of that food 
of which, unless ye eat, the Saviour has said, '^ Ye have no 
life in you .^" Or ; you have a sad story to tell. You have 
fallen into mortal sin, and you are afraid to come. But 
do you think we have none of the charity of the Angels? 
Only convert truly, for it is a true conversion that gives the 
Angels joy, and we can give you the promise that Thomas a 
Kempis puts into the mouth of Him whose place we fill : 
" How often soever a man truly repents and comes to me for 
grace and pardon, as I live, saith the Lord, who desireth not 
the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be converted 
and live, I will not remember his sins any more, but all shall 
be pardoned him." 

And to you, my brethren, who, during the Easter season 
just past, have recovered the grace of God, I have a word of 
advice to give in conclusion. Keep your souls with all dili- 
gence. Keep your souls ; that is your chief, your only care. 
Keep them by fleeing from the occasions of sin. Keep them 

18« 



4:18 THE catholic's certitude concerning 

by overcoming habitual sins. Nourish them by prayer and 
the sacraments. How great a disgrace, that all the irrational 
world should do the will of God, and you, the rulers of the 
world, should not do it ! " The kite in the air hath 'known 
her time / the turtle^ and the swallow^ and the stork have ob- 
served the time of their coming ; hut my people have not 
known the judgment of the Lord^^ How great an evil it is 
in a state when an unworthy ruler is at its head. The 
people mourn and languish, and at last rebel. So, when a 
man neglects the end for which he was made, the whole 
creation cries out against him. The stones under his feet cry 
out. The air he breathes, the food he eats, protest against 
the abuse he makes of them. Balaam's ass rebuked the mad- 
ness of the prophet ; so, when you live in sin, the very beasts 
cry out : '' If we had souls, we would not be as you. Now 
we serve God blindly, and of necessity ; but if we had souls, 
it would be our pride and happiness to give Him our willing 
service." All things praise the Lord ; — '' showers and dew ;'' 
''fire and heat ;" " mountains and hills ;" " seas and rivers ;" 
'^beasts and cattle." O sons of men, make not a discord in 
the universal harmony! Receive not your souls in vain ! 
Serve God ; " praise Him and exalt Him forever." 



SERMON XXI. 

the CATHOLIC'S CERTITUDE CONCERNING THE WAT OF SAL- 

VATION. 

(fifth SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST.) 

" I know whom I have beUeved, and I am certain tliat He is able to keep 
that which I have committed to Him against that day." — II. Tim. i. 12. 

No one can denj^ that this sentiment of the Apostle is a very 
comfortable one. To be confident of salvation is surely an 
excellent and desirable thing. But the question with many 

* Jer. viii *l. 



THE WAY OF SALVATION. 41S 

will be, is it possible to attain it? Now, there is one sense 
in which we cannot have a security of our salvation. We 
cannot have personally an infallible assurance that we are 
now and shall always continue in the grace of God, and shall 
at last taste the joys of heaven. Our free-will forbids such 
an assurance, and neither our happiness nor the attributes of 
God demand it. But there is another sense in which a man 
may be said to have a security of his salvation, viz. : that he has 
within his reach, beyond all doubt, the proper and necessary 
means for attaining that end ; for if the means are certain, it 
is plain that in the use of those means he may acquire a 
moral certainty that he is doing those things which God re-- 
quires of him, and a well-grounded hope of everlasting life. 
Such a security it would seem a man ought to be able to 
attain. Without it the service of God must be slavish. 
There can be no free and generous service where there is not 
confidence. When one is travelling at night on a road he is 
ignorant of, he goes slow, he falters ; but in the broad day- 
light, in a road he is sure of, he walks with a free, bold step. 
So in religion, if we have no security that we are right, we 
can never do much for God. Man is not an abject being; 
he is erect ; he looks up to heaven ; he seems to face his Maker 
and to demand from Him to know the terms on which he stands 
toward Him. A confidence, then, at least of being able to 
secure our salvation, must be within our reach. The only 
question is, how is it to be attained ? I answer, the CatholiG 
has within his reach the security of his salvation, and he 
alone. 

In order to show this to you, I must remind you of what I 
mean by salvation. Put out of your minds that childish 
idea that salvation is an external, arbitrary reward, given to 
some men when they die, and denied to others, as a father 
gives a book or a plaything to an obedient child, and refuses 
it to a disobedient. Salvation is union with God. We are 
made for God. That is our high destiny. In God are our life 



420 THE catholic's certitude concerning 

and happiness ; and out of God our death and ruin. Salva- 
tion is our union with God for all eternity, and, in order to 
be united to God for all eternitj, we must be united to Him 
here. Our salvation must begin here. Now, we are united 
to God when our intelligence is united to His intelligence by 
the knowledge of His truth, and our will united to His will 
by the practice of His love. When I affirm, then, that the 
Catholic alone has the means of attaining a security of salva- 
tion, I mean that he alone has the certain means of coming to 
the knowledge of His truth, and the practice of His will. 

I say tli6 certain means of coming to the knowledge of His 
truth^ for it is one thing to have a certain knowledge of a thing, 
and another to have only some ideas about it. We see this 
difierence when we contrast the language of a man who is 
master of a science with that of one who has only vague 
notions about it. One possesses his knowledge — ^knows what 
he knows — can make use of it; while the other is embar- 
rassed the moment he attempts to use his knowledge — is 
uncertain whether he is right or wrong — is driven to guesses 
and conjectures. In the same way, in religion, it is one thing 
to have convictions more or less deep — opinions more or less 
probable, to be acquainted with its history and able to talk 
about it — and quite another to have certainty in religion, to 
know that one is right. This is the assurance I claim as the 
special possession of the Catholic. There can be no doubt 
that Catholics do, in point of fact, show a much deeper con- 
viction of the truth of their religion than Protestants. This 
is a matter of common observation, and the proofs of it are 
on every side. Officers who come back from the army tell 
how struck they have been with the fact that the Catholic 
soldiers believe their religion and carry it with them to the 
camp. Proselyting societies make frequent confession of the 
difficulty they find in undermining the faith even of ignorant 
and needy Catholics. Those who have experience at death- 
beds, know that faith is found sometimes surviving almost 



THE WAY OF SALVaTIOJ^. 421 

every other good principle, and making a return to God pos- 
sible. Those who are familiar with the history of the Church 
know that this faitli is strong enough to bear the severest tests 
which can be applied to it; that it has often led men t(> 
despise w^iat the world most esteems — wealth, pleasures, 
honor ; that it sends the missionary to heathen countries 
without a regret for the home and the native land he leaves 
behind him ; that, in fine, it has often led men in times past, 
and still at this day leads them joyfully to the rack, the stake, 
and the scaflFold. Now, w^ience comes this deep and fixed 
certainty in religion? Is it a mere prejudice that melts 
before investigation ? Is it a stupid fanaticism ? Or has it a 
reasonable basis, and are its foundations deep in the laws of 
the human mind ? I answer. Catholics have this undoubting 
conviction on the principle of faith in an infallible authority. 
There are but two principles of Christian belief, when we 
come to the bottom of the matter. One is the Protestant 
principle, viz. : that each one is to settle his faitli for himself, 
by a study of the clear records of Christianity. The other 
is the Catholic principle, viz. : that each one is to receive his 
faith from an infallible authority. I feel as if I ought to 
pause here for a while to explain to you what is meant by 
this principle, for there exists in regard to it in some minds a 
misconception which does us the grossest injustice. Some 
persons imagine that our creed is manufactured for us by the 
Pope and the Bishops ; that whatever they may think right 
and good they may decree, and forthwith we are bound 
to believe it. But this is an enormous mistake. The au- 
thority to which I submit myself is something far more 
august. It lies behind Pope and Bishop, and they must 
1 »ow to it as well as I. The Pope and the Bishops are the 
organs of this authority, not its sources. "When we speak of 
learning from an infallible authority, we mean that a man is 
to find out the truth by putting his intelligence in communi- 
cation with that living stream of truth that flows down 



422 THE catholic's certitude concekking 

tkrough the chaiiiiel of tradition, that living word of God, 
that public preaching of the truth in the true Church, begun 
by the Apostles, carried on by their successors, confessed by 
BO many people, recorded in so many monuments, adorned jy 
so many sacrifices, attested by so many miracles. Unques- 
tionably, this was the mode in which men were expected to 
learn the truth in apostolic days. It would not have been 
of the least avail for a man to have said to the Apostles that 
his convictions differed from theirs. He would have been 
instantly regarded as in error. " We are of God," says St. 
John ; " he that is of God, heareth us ; he that is not of God, 
heareth not us. JBy this shall ye know the spirit of truth, 
and the spirit of error."^ i!^or is there the least intimation in 
the 'New Testament that this principle was to be departed 
from, after the death of the Apostles. On the contrary, we 
find that the Apostles ordained others, and communicated to 
them their doctrine and authority, that they might go on and 
preach just as they had done. And we find in the early 
Church that whenever a dispute arose about doctrine it was 
settled on the same principle, viz. : by an appeal to the tra- 
dition of the churches that had been founded by the Apostles. 
Thus, when a heresy arose in the second century, TertuUian 
confronts it by bidding them compare their doctrine with 
that of the Apostolic Churches : " If thou art in Achaia," 
he says, " thou hast Corinth ; if thou art near Macedonia, 
thou hast Philippi ; if thou art in Italy, thou hast Home. 
Happy Church ! to which the Apostles bequeathed not only 
their blood, but all their doctrines. See what she has learned, 
see what she has taught."f Such is the principle on which the 
Catholic Church acts to this da v. Now, while the Protestant 
principle of private judgment in its own nature cannot lead 
to certainty, while in point of fact it has led only to endless 
dilute, until in our o^^^l day it has ended by bringing those 
Divine Records, which it began by exalting so highly, into 

♦ L St John iv. 6. f Adv. Troescr. llaer. n. 32-6. 



THE WAY OF SALVATION. 423 

doubt and contempt ; the Catliolic principle, wliicli, 1 have 
Btated, is the principle of tradition, is adapted to give a com- 
plete and a reasonable certainty and assurance. The reasons 
why this public tradition of the living Church has this power 
are manifold. They are in part natural, and in part su- 
pernatural — universal consent, internal consistency, Divine 
Attestation, the Warrant and Promise of Christ ; all of 
which are so well summed up by St. Augustine, in that fa- 
mous letter of his to the Manichees : " I am kept in the 
Catholic Church," he says, '' by the consent of peoples and 
nations. By an authority begun with miracles, nourished by 
hope, increased by charity, confirmed by antiquity. By the 
succession of priests from the chair of St. Peter the Apostle 
— to whom our Lord after His resurrection gave His sheep 
to be fed — down to the present Bishop. In fine, by that very 
name of Catholic, which this Church alone has held possession 
of; so that though heretics would fain have called themselves 
Catholics, yet to the inquiry of a stranger, ' Where is the 
meeting of the Catholic Church held?' no one of them 
would dare to point to his own basilica.""^ The conviction 
which such considerations produce is so deep that a Catholic 
rests in it with the most undoubting certainty. He can bear 
to look into his belief, to examine its grounds ; he feels it is 
a venerable belief. He says it is impossible that God would 
allow error to wear so many marks of truth. To imagine it, 
would be to impugn His Truth, His Justice, His Power, His 
Goodness. And therefore, our belief in the Catholic religion 
is only another form of our belief in God. The foundation 
of that belief is deep and abiding, for it is the Eternal Throne of 
God. That desire for truth which is implanted in man's nature 
is not, then, given only to be baffled and disappointed — here 
Is its fulfilment. Man is not raised to a participation in Christ 
of the Divine Nature, to be left in doubt of the most essential 
truths. To the Catholic are fulfilled those pleasant words of 

* Con. Ep. Mauich, i. 5, 6, 



^ 



424 THE catholic's certitude concerning 

Christ : " / will not now call you servants^ for the servant 
knoweth not what his Lord doeth; hut I have called you 
friends^ lecause all things^ whatsoever I have heard from 
my Father^ I have made known to youP"^ 

But some one may make an objection to my doctrine tliat 
certainty about truth is thci result only of the Catholic prin- 
ciple of faith, and say : " You do not mean to assert that Pro- 
testants have no faith at all ?" A Protestant may say to me : 
" I acknowledge that we have among us a great deal of dis- 
union, and a great deal of doubt, but after all there are some 
things that are believed by some of us, that are believed 
without doubt, and you will not deny it." ISTo, I will not deny 
it. I am glad to think that it is true. But how did you come 
by that belief ? You did not come by it on the principle of Prot- 
estantism. The truth is, that principle never has been, and never 
can be carried out. Thank God, it is so. Utter unbelief would 
be the consequence. You have a child — a child that you love 
dearly. Will you wait, as your Protestantism reguires you to 
do, till he is grown up, for him to form his religious convictions ? 
No ; if you love him, you will not. Your heart will teach 
.you a better wisdom. Yon will tell him about God, you 
will tell him Who Christ is, and what He has done for him. 
You will tell him these things not doubtingly, not as if he 
was to suspend his judgment on them, but as true, and as to be 
helieved then and there. And as he looks up at you out of 
his trusting eyes, he believes you. But how does he believe 
you ? On the principle of a Protestant, or a Catholic ? On 
the principle of private judgment, or on faith in an infal- 
lible authority ? Surely it js as a Catholic he believes ? You 
represent to him the Great Teacher, and his childish soul, in 
listening to you, hears the voice of God, performs a great act 
of religion, and does his first act of homage to Truth. His 
nature prompts him to believe you. Perhaps he is baptized, 
and then there is a grace in his heart which secretly inclines 

♦ St Jobu XV, 15. 



THE WAY OF SALVATION. 425 

liiiL the more to credit you, and he believes without doubt- 
ing. He is a Catholic. Yes, my brethren, there is many a 
child of Protestant parents who is a Catholic — a Catholic, 
that is, in all but the name, and the fulness of instruction, 
and the richness of privilege. He may grow up in this way, 
perhaps continue all his life in this childish faith and trust. 
I will not say it may not be so. But let his reason fully 
awahen. Let him honestly go down to the foundation of his 
faith and see on what it rests, and then let him remain a 
Protestant, and retain his undoubting assurance if he can. 
He cannot — a crisis in his history has come. The sun has 
arisen with its living heat. The flower begins to wither. It 
must be transplanted or it will die. One of three things will 
happen : either the man, finding that he has not learned all that 
the Great Teacher has revealed, will go on to accept the 
rest and will become a Catholic ; or he will learn to doubt 
what he has received already and become a sceptic ; or lie 
will stick to the creed he has received from his fathers or 
picked up for himself, and doggedly refuse to add to it, thus 
rendering himself at the same moment amenable in the Court 
of Eeason for unreasonableness in what he holds, and in the 
Court of Faith for unbelief in what he rejects. So true it is 
that all the faith there is in the world is natm-ally allied to 
Catholicity. If men were perfectly reasonable and consist- 
ent, there would be only two parties in the religious world. 
Protestantism would disappear. On the one side would bo 
faith, certainty. Catholicity; on the other, doubt and un 
belief. 

Nor is this all. The Catholic has not only a certain means 
cf arriving at the knowledge of God's Faith, but he has also 
the sure means of knowing what he is bound to do in order 
to salvation. Christianity is a supernatural religion, and 
therefore it suggests many questions to which natural reason 
cannot give the answer. By what means can I be united to 
Christ ? Suppose I am in mortal sin, how can I be forgi s^en ! 



426 THE catholic's certitude C0]S^CERNING 

TVTiat are the precise obligations biuding on me as a Christian ? 
Now, how distinctly, how promptly were such questions 
answered in the time of the Apostles ! When St. Paul came 
to Ananias to know what he was to do, the answer was 
given to him : " Arise, and be baptized, and wash away thy 
sins." In the same way in the Catholic Church of this day, 
when a convert asks the same question, he gets the same 
answer : Seek in faith and repentance the cleansing of 
baptism, and thou shalt be joined unto Christ. Dost thou 
wish to know the life thou must practise ? It is written in 
the ten commandments and the precepts of the Church. 
Dost thou wish to know where thou wilt gain strength to 
keep these laws? In prayer and the sacraments. The 
Church tells you how many there are, what is their effi- 
cacy, and the conditions of their saving operation. Art thou 
in sin after baptism ? Dost thou ask the way back to God ? 
The Church tells thee that sorrow for sin is the way back, 
and that this sorrow, when it is completed by confession, and 
accepted by the absolution of the priest, has a sacramental 
efficacy. So precise are the answers of Catholicity to the im- 
portant practical questions of Christianity; and the authority 
which, I have already said, attaches to her words, gives ease 
and certainty to the conscience. But how different is all this 
in Protestantism ! How various the answers given to these 
questions by the different sects ! Nay, how contradictory 
sometimes the answers given in the same sect ! It would be 
odious to go into particulars on this subject, but I say what I 
know when I affirm that an intelligent Protestant cannot 
have faith in his Church, if he would ; he may adopt a set 
of opinions and associate with those who hold them, but he 
cannot have faith in his Church as a Church. It is not long 
Bince an intelligent member of one of the most enlightened 
Protestant denominations told me that the members of that 
Church did not seem to be satisfied with it, only they did not 
know whether there was any otlier Church in the world that 



THE WAY OF SALVATION. 427 

would satisfy them. I say what I know when I affirm that 
there are young children in Protestant Churches who weep 
because they are told that God hates them, and they do not 
know how to gain His love. That there are numbers of 
young men, full of generous and noble thoughts and impulses, 
who are utterly destitute of any fixed Christian belief; who 
say they would like to believe, but they cannot. That there 
are multitudes and multitudes who die in this land, who die 
without one single Christian act, and many who submit at 
their last hour to take part in such acts at the request of 
friends, and on the chance that there may be some good in 
them. That there are some who openly lament that they 
were not born Catholics, that they might have had faith ; 
some who rise in the night to cry to God out of the hopeless 
darkness that sun-ounds them ; some who, in despair of seeing 
God with an intelligent faith, take up a substitute, the best 
of all, it is true, but still very insufficient — works of benevo- 
lence and philanthropy, and the beauties of a merely moral 
life ; some who would welcome death itself if it would but 
remove their agony of doubt. 

I do not say these things, my Protestant friends, if any 
such are present, to mock your miseries. Far from it. I 
know you too well. I love you too much. I say these 
things to lead you to truth and peace. I call to you strug- 
gling with the waves, from the rock whereon our feet have 
found a resting-place. I speak to you to the same efiect as 
Christ spoke to the woman at the well of Jacob, who was a 
member of the scliismatical Samaritan Church. You wor- 
ship you know not what. We know what we worship ; for 
salvation is of the Jews. You know not what you worship. 
Your religion is at the best one of doabt and uncertainty. We 
know what we worship. We are certain we are right, foi 
salvation is of us. We are the Israelites. Tc us belongeth 
the, adoption of children, and the glory, and the covenant, 
and the giving of the law, and ^he service of God, and the 



428 THE catholic's certitude. 

promises. This is the mountain of the Lord established in 
the last days on the top of the mountains, and exalted above 
the hills, into which the nations flow. O you who know not 
this home of peace, God did not make you to be as you are, to 
be tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of 
doctrine, to follow blind guides, to give your money for that 
which is not bread, and your labor for that which satisfieth 
not. No, come with us and be happy. Come with us and 
be blessed. Come, let us go the mountain of the Lord, and 
to the house of the God of Jacob, and lie will teach u^ His 
ways, and we will walk in His paths, for the law shall come 
forth from Sion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. 
Incline your ear unto me and you shall live — the life of 
faith — the life of certainty and hope. You shall go out with 
joy and be led forth with peace. Instead of the shrub shall 
come up the fir tree : and instead of the nettle shall come 
up the myrtle tree. All nature shall sympathise in your 
happiness. The mountains and hills shall break fortli into 
singing before you, and all the trees of the country shall 
clap their hands. 

And you, my dear Catholics, be not indifferent to the 
graces God has given you, nor slothful in their use. You 
have it your power to make sure your salvation. About the 
means there is no uncertainty. They are infallible. It is 
of the Catholic Church that the prophet spoke when he said : 
''A path shall he there^ and a way ^ and it shall he called a 
holy loay^ and this shall he tmto you a straight way^ so that 
even fools shall not err therein?'^* And again : " Thus saith 
the Lord God: I will lay a stone in the foundation of Sion ^ 
a tried stone^ a corner-stone^ a precious stone^ founded in 
the foundation r\ A way to heaven in this dark, uncertain 
world ! a straight, a sure, a certain way ! A rock imder our 
feet under this swelling sea ! O my brethren, what bless- 
ifigs are these ! Let them not bo in vain. Be not found at 

♦ Isai. XXXV. 8. \ Ilnd. xxviii. 16. 



THE PRESENCE OF GOD. 429 

the last day with your lights gone out ! The just shall 
live by faith. Live by yours. Do you wish to advance in 
a good life ? Your faith tells you how. Does sin wage a 
war against you ? Your faith tells you how to meet the 
combat. Are you in sin ? Your faith tells you how to be 
forgiven. Correspond, then, honestly with this faith, and you 
may enjoy a firm hope of heaven, a hope not based on excited 
feelings, not claiming to be a direct inspiration from on high, 
but a reasonable hope, that will stay by you in adversity, 
and support you at the hour of death. Claim, then, your 
privilege. Assert the freedom wherewith Christ has made 
you free. Be not troubled or anxious all your days. Do 
your part, act up to your Catholic conscience, then lift up 
your heads, eat your bread with joy, and let your garments 
be always white, for God now accepteth your works. In this 
is the love of God perfected in us, that we may have confi- 
dence in the day of judgment. " Wherefore, he ye steadfast^ 
unmovable^ always abounding hi the work of the Lord^ foras- 
much as ye know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.^^^ 



SEEMON XXII. 

THE PKESENCE OF GOD. 

(fifth STTNDAT after PENTECOST.) 

" Indeed the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not. How terrible is this 
place ; this is no other than the house of God and the gate of heaven." — GtEN 
XYiii. 16,17. 

These words were spoken by the Patriarch Jacob when he 
was journeying to Syria to visit his uncle. He had stopped 
for the night at a place which was afterward called Bethel, 
and as he lay on the ground with a stone for his pillow, the 
Lord appeared to him in a vision, and blessed him, and fore- 

* L Cor. XV. 58. 



430 THE PEESENCE OF GOD. 

told his future greatness and increase. Then, penetrated with 
a sense of the nearness and greatness of God, with whom he 
had been conversing, he rose up and exclaimed : '' Indeed the 
Lord is in this place, and I knew it not." And trembling, he 
said : '^ How terrible is this place ; this is no other than the 
house of God, and the gate of heaven. " Now, my brethren, 
we may make every morning and every night a similar 
declaration. Wherever we are, we may say : " Indeed the 
Lord is in this place." Every spot on earth, on which a man 
tarries for a moment, becomes the hou^e of God, and the gate 
of heaven. Tou understand what I mean. I am speaking 
of the omnipresence of God. Eeason and faith both proclaim 
to us this great truth of the universal presence of God. He 
is present by His immensity to all creatures in the universe, 
whether living or inanimate. When God created the world. 
He did not leave it to itself. He sustains it by His presence 
and power, and it is in Him that we live and move and have 
our being. He is present to our intellectual and moral being 
as the light of reason and the object of the will, for without 
Him there would be no rational or moral life. He is present 
with us also as the source of that supernatural life which 
begins in baptism and ends in the uncreated vision of the 
Blessed Trinity in heaven. " He that loveth Me, shall 
be loved by My Father ; and I will love him, and will mani- 
fest Myself to him. ^ ''^ ^ And My Father will love him, 
and We will come to him, and will make an abode with 
him.""^ O my brethren, what a piercing thought is this of 
the presence of God, if we did but realize it ! Think for a 
moment of the doctrine of the real presence of our Lord in 
the Holy Eucharist. We believe that Jesus Christ, true God 
and true Man, with His deity. His soul. His flesh and blood, is 
present in the holy sacrament of the altar. What conse- 
quences this doctrine has ! The whole Catholic ritual, the 



♦ St. John xiv. 21, 23. 



THE PKESENCE OF GOD. 461 

ceremomos of worsMp, the respect paid to churches, the bow- 
ing of the knees, the incense, the lights, the music — all flow 
from this. In the early ages, during the times of persecution, 
it was customary for Christians to take home with them the 
Blessed Sacrament, that they might communicate themselves 
in case of necessity. Imagine that such were the custom now^ 
Imagine you were to take away with you, this day, as you left 
the church, and carry to your homes, the sacred host which is 
kept in the tabernacle. How silently would you go along 
the streets ! With what care would you seek out a place for 
our Saviours body to respose in ! With what care would 
you go about your home as loDg as He remained j^our guest ! 
How would your heart thrill as you reflected, on awaking in 
the morning, that indeed the Lamb of God, once crucified for 
you, was now a dweller in your own home ! Yet, if such 
were the case, ifthe Blessed Sacrament were actually kept in 
your houses and in your rooms, God would not be any more 
present to you than He is now. He is indeed present in a 
different manner in the Blessed Eucharist. That sacramental 
presence, that sweet, precious, consoling presence of the body 
once broken, and the blood once shed for us, is confined to the 
sacramental species. But the presence of the deity, the real 
presence of God, is just as much outside as it is inside the 
church ; just as much with us when we are at home as when 
we are at Mass. ITot if His footstep shook the heavens and 
the earth, as it will on the Last Day when He comes to 
judgment, would God be one wbit closer to us or more pres- 
ent to us than He is now to every one of us, every day, and 
everywhere. Even sin cannot separate us from God. We 
sometimes say that mortal sin separates a man from God. As 
a figure of speech, implying the loss of God's grace and friend- 
ship which sin occasions, this language may pass, but taken 
literally it is untrue. A man can never be separated from 
God. That would be annihilation. Even when we are in sin, 
^ven when we are committing sin, God is with us and in us, 



432 THE PRESENCE OF GOD. 

the soul of our soul, the life of our life. Yes, here is a bond 
that can never be broken. Never can we escape that awful 
presence — never for a moment, here or hereafter. We shall 
not be more in God's presence in heaven or less in hell tian 
we are now at this moment. God is not a God afar off up in 
heaven. He is here. This whole universe is only God's 
shadow. Every thing that is attests, not only God's creating 
power, but His living presence. He is in the flames and in 
the light, and in the pastures, in the air, in the ground, in th^ 
body, and in the soul, in tlie liead, in the eye, in the ear, and 
in the heart. He is in us, and we are in Him, bathed in His 
presence as in an ocean, breathing in it as in an atmosphere. 
This is what the Psalmist expresses so beautifully : " Whither 
shall I go from Thy spirit? or rnhither shall I flee from 
Thy face? If I ascend into heaven^ thou art there ; if J 
descend into hell^ thou art jpresent * if I take my wings early 
in the morning^ and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea^ 
even there also shall Thy hand lead me ; and Thy right hand 
shall hold me. And I said : Perhaps darkness shall cover 
me * and night shall he light in my pleasures. But darkness 
shall not he dark to thee y and night shall he light as the day / 
the darkness thereof and the light thereof^ are alike to 
Theer ^ 

If we thought more frequently of this, how many sms 
should we avoid ! When a man is going to commit a crime, 
he takes precautions against discovery. He seeks out a secret 
place. He chooses a fitting hour. Vain precautions ! There 
is no secret place on earth, no lonely spot, no time of dark- 
ness. There is a proverb among men that '' walls have 
ears," and the counsel of the wise man is, '' Detract not the 
king^ no^ not in thy thought ; and speak not evil of the rich 
inan in thy private chamher ^ hecause even the hirds of the 
air will carry the voice ; and he that hath wirigs will tell 

* Ps. cxxxviii. 7-12, 



THE PRESENCE OF GOD. 433 

what thou hast said^'^ ^ Wliat is it that has impressed on men 
this universal fear of detection ? Is it not an unconscious 
acknowledgment of the presence of God ? Tes, we cannot 
shut the door against Him. We cannot leave Him out. We 
cannot draw the blind before His eye. " The eyes of the 
Lord in every jylctce hehold the good and the eviV^-[ " Before 
that Philip called thee^ when thou wast under the fig-tree^ I 
saw thee^''% said our Lord to Nathanael. I wish you thought 
more of this ; I am sure it would save you fi:om many a sin. 
I have read of a holy man who, on hearing a person say that 
circumstances were favorable to the commission of a shame- 
ful sin, because no one was present, exclaimed : " What ! are 
you not ashamed to do that before the living God which you 
would be ashamed to do before a man like yourself?" Even 
the eye of a dog has restrained men jfrom the commission of 
crime — how much more ought the eye of God ! Listen to the 
language you hear as you pass through the streets. The 
sacred names of God and Jesus Christ, how they are bandied 
about ! Would men speak so, if they realized that God and 
Christ were then and there present ? Would they insult God 
to His face ? Suppose our Saviour were to appear to one of 
these men as he was pouring out his oaths and blasphemies, 
in the guise in which He was as He journeyed to Calvary to 
die for man, with sorrow in His eye, and sweat and blood on 
His forehead, with weak and faltering steps, and lips mute, 
but full of appealing love and agony ; would he still go on with 
his dreadful oaths ? No ! The knee would be bent, the head 
would be bowed, and the very ground on which He walked 
would be regarded with reverent awe. Why so ? Merely 
because ho saw Him with his bodily eyes ? Would it not be 
the same, if he were to close His eyes, and yet be aware of 
His presence? And is He not present to you as truly as if 
you saw Him, hearing each imprecation and blasphemy 

* Eccles. X. 20. t I'rov. xv. 3. { St. Johu i. 48. 

^9 



434 THE PKESENCE OF GOD. 

which yon utter ? Oh, spare Him ! spare those sacred ears ; 
spare His majesty and His goodness, and cease to profane His 
kioly name. Tertullian, speaking of the early Christians, says 
they talked as those who believed that God was listening. 
Let the thought of God's presence be deeply graven on your 
Boul, and it will teach you to use the language of a Christian 
— at least it will cure you of blasphemy. 

It will cure you also of another sin of the tongue : that is, 
of falsehood. Lying implies a virtual denial of God's pres • 
ence, as well as blasphemy. When you lie, you forget tha 
there is One who knows the truth — who is Himself the 
Eternal Truth ; and you act as if He knew not, or would be a 
party to your fraud. Every lie is, in this respect, like the lie 
of Ananias and Sapphira — a lie to God. 

Oh ! how much must God be displeased by all the sins He 
witnesses. It is said of righteous Lot, that from day to day he 
vexed his righteous soul at all the sins which he witnessed in 
Sodom, where he dwelt. How must the Holy God be vexed 
every day at all the dark deeds, the injustices, the impurities, 
the falsehoods, the deceits, the treacheries, the cruelties, to 
which men compel Him to be a witness ! Is it not a neces- 
sity that Christ should come with ten thousand of His saints 
to take vengeance on the ungodly ! Would it not seem, 
otherwise, that God made Himself a party to our sins by 
keeping silence? " These things hast thou done^'^ says the 
Almighty, ^^ and I was silent. Thou thoughtest unjustly 
that I shall he like to thee: hut I will reprove thee^ and set 
hefore thyfacey ^ David committed adultery in secret ; but 
God declared to him that He would punish him before all 
Israel, and in the sight of the sun. So the Judgment Day 
will bring to light every secret thing, and manifest, in tbe 
sight of all, those hidden sins which have been committed in 
the presence and with the full knowledge of God. Tliey 

» P8. xlix. 21. 



I 



THE PBESENCE OF GOD. 435 

have never been hidden from God, and tae disclosures of the 
Last Day are only the Presence and the Knowledge of God 
asserting and manifesting themselves to men. The thought 
of God, and of His Omnipresence, is thus the greatest pre- 
servative against sin. 

But this is not all. The thought of God's perpetual and 
universal presence is our greatest strength and consolation. 
What a comfort it would be to have a friend, who loved us 
truly, who was most sincerely desirous of our welfare and 
happiness, who was very wise and able to help us in difficul- 
ties, never variable or capricious, but always true and faith- 
ful and trustworthy ! The possession of such a friend will 
go as far as any thing earthly can go to make one perfectly 
happy. Now, each one of us really has such a friend. Such 
a friend? Ah. ! far better, far wiser, far more loving — even 
the good God ! God, in the Holy Scriptures, represents the 
soul of man as a garden, in which it is His delight to walk 
about. What an idea this gives us of the familiarity a man 
may have wdth God. Why do not men take advantage of 
this loving condescension ? Why do they not converse with 
God ? Why do they not think of Him ? The face of Moses 
shone after he had been talking to God on Mount Sinai, and 
our countenance would be light and joyous if we dwelt more 
in God's presence. Oh, to think of it ! When we walk in 
the streets, when we sit down and rise up, there is one ever 
at our side — no, not at our side ; but in us — our very life 
and being ; God, the Beautiful and Good. God, Who made 
the heavens and the earth ; the God of our fathers. God, Who 
has been the comfort and stay of the just in all ages. Who 
talked with Abraham, and went before the children of Israel 
in a cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night. God, Who 
gave manna from heaven, Who spoke by the prophets, and in 
the still, small voice on Mount Horeb ; Who awoke Samuel, 
as lie lay sleeping in his little crib in the priest's chamber, 
and chose David, the youth fair and of a ruddy counte* 



i36 THE PRESENCE OF GOD. 

nance, to be the prince of His people ; and who, in these last 
days, hath revealed Himself in His Only Begotten Son, full 
of grace and truth. 

He it is Who is with 3^011 and me, even from our youth 
unto this day. O thou who art aflBlicted, tossed with tem- 
pests and not comforted, what dost thou want ? — what wouldst 
thou have ? The Eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath 
thee are the everlasting arms. Thou hast but to open thy soul, 
and floods of comfort and strength will pour into thee. Art 
thou weak ? He is thy Strength. Art thou sad and lonely ? 
He is thy Consoler. Art thou guilty ? He is thy Redeemer 
— the God ready to pardon. Does the w^orld allure thee i 
His Beauty will make its attractions pale. Is thy heart 
weary and inconstant ? He is unfailing and unchanging. O 
source of strength, too much slighted ! O happiness, too 
often blindly rejected! In the presence of God there is 
pleasure and life. " They that hope in the Lord shall renew 
their strength ; they shall take vnngs as eagles ; they shall 
run and not he weary ; they shall walh and not faint?'* 
''For He is a covert from the wind^ a hiding-place from the 
storm ^ as rivers of waters in a dry place^ and the shadow of a 
great rock in a weary landP ^ 

Learn, then, my brethren, to keep yourselves in the pres 
ence of God. To forget God, what is it, but to plunge our- 
selves into sin and misery. To remember God, what is it, 
but to be strong and happy. " Walk before Me, and be 
thou perfect," said God to Abraham. That is the secret 
of perfection, the way to heaven. It is not necessary to go 
out of your own mind. It is not necessary to lift the eye 
to heaven, or bend the knee. Closer than the union of soul 
and body is the union between God and thee. Quicker 
than thouglit is the communion between thy soul and its 
Maker. '^Thou shalt cry^^^ says the Almighty, " and I will 

• Isai. xl. 31 ; xxxiL 2. 



KEEPING THE LAW NOT IMPOSSIBLE. 437 

say : Here I am — yea^ even hefore thy call^ I will heai\ 
and even ivhile thou art yet speahing I will answer ^"^ Prac- 
tise, then, attention to the presence of God. I do not speak 
so much now of daily prayers, and of your devotions in the 
church. But when you are abroad in the busy world, or in 
your homes, accustom yourselves from time to time to think of 
God. Complicated pieces of machinery require the care of 
an overseer from time to time, lest they get out of gear. So 
we must think of God from time to time during the day, and 
keep the powers of our soul in harmony with the will of God, 
lest they fall into disorder, and the work of life be hindered. 
It is not a work of very great diflficulty. The chief difficulty 
lies in its simplicity. It is so much easier to pray than we 
think, that oftentimes we have already prayed when we are 
perplexing ourselves how to pray, and busying ourselves with 
preparing to pray. ^ God is in us, in the very centre of our 
soul. He knows its most secret thoughts, and thus a simple 
act of the will is enough to bring us into communion with 
Him. To realize this is to be men of prayer, to be as happy 
as it is possible for us to be in this life, and to begin here that 
contemplation of God which will constitute our everlasting 
beatitude in heaven. 



SERMON XXIII. 

KEEPING THE LAW NOT IMPOSSIBLE. 

(ninth SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST.) 

"I can do aU things in Him who strengtheneth me.'* — Phil. vi. 13. 

If I am not mistaken, a very great number of the sins that 
men commit, are committed through hopelessness. The 
pleasiu^es of sin are by no means unmixed. Indeed, sin is a 

♦ Isal Iviii. 9 \ Ixv. 24. 



438 KEEPING THE LAW NOT IMPOSSIBLE. 

hard master ; and all who practise it find it so, 1 never met 
a man who said it was a good thing, or that it made him 
happy. On the contrary, all lament it, and say that it makes 
them miserable. Why, then, do they commit it? Very 
often, I am persuaded, because they think they have no power 
to resist it. They feel in themselves strong passions ; they 
have yielded to them in times past, they see that others yield 
to them, and so they come to think it impossible not to yield 
to them. The law of God is too difficult, they say. It is 
impossible to keep it. It may do for priests or nuns who 
are cut off from the world, or for women, or for the old, or 
for children, but for us who mix in the world, wliose blood is 
warm, and whose passions are strong, it is too high and pure. 
It is all very well to talk about ; it is all very well to hold 
up a high standard to us, but you must not expect us to at- 
tain it. The utmost that you can expect of us is to stop sin- 
ning, now and then, and make the proper acknowledgments 
to God by going to confession ; but actually to try not to sin, 
to keep on endeavoring not to sin at any time, or under any 
circumstances, that is impossible, or at least so extremely 
difficult that, practically speaking, it is impossible. Are 
there none of you, my brethren, who recognise this as the 
secret language of your hearts ? Is there not an impression 
in your minds that the law of God is too strict, or at least that 
it is too strict for you, and that you cannot keep it ? If so, 
do not harbor it. It is a fatal error. No ; it is not impossible 
to keep God's law. It is not impossible to keep from mortal 
sin. It is, I admit, impossible to keep from every venial sin, 
though even here we can do a great deal, if we try. Such is 
the frailty of human nature that even the best men, as time 
goes on, fall into some slight faults, only the Blessed Virgin 
having been able, as we believe, to pass a whole life without 
even in the smallest thing offending God. But it is possible* 
for all of us to keep from mortal sin, at all times and under 
al] circumstances. This, I think, you will acknowledge when 



KEEPING THE LAW NOT IMPOSSIBLE. 439 

you consider the character of God, the nature of God'a law, 
and the power of God's grace which is promised to us. 

I say the character of God is a pledge of our ability to keep 
from mortal sin. God requires us to be free from mortal sin, 
and He requires it under the severest penalties, and therefore 
it must be possible for us. Tou may say, " God requires us 
to be free from venial sin too, and yet you have just said we 
cannot avoid every venial sin." But the case is far different. 
A venial sin does not separate us from God, and does not re- 
ceive extreme punishment from Him — nay, those venial sins 
which even good men commit, and which are only in small 
part voluntary, are very easily forgiven — but a mortal sin 
cut us off entirely from God, and deserves eternal punish- 
ment. Tou know, one mortal sin is enough to damn a man 
— one single sin of drunkenness, for instance, or impurity; 
a cherished hatred, a false oath, or an act of grave injustice. 
One such sin is sufficient to sink a man in hell, and although 
we know very little in particular of the torments of hell, we 
have every reason to believe that they are most bitter, and 
we know that they are eternal. Now, can it be thought that 
a being of justice and goodness, as we know God to be, would 
inflict so extreme a punishment for an offence which was un- 
avoidable, or could only be avoided with the utmost difficul- 
ty ? Holy Scripture sends us to an earthly parent for an 
example of that tenderness and affection which we are to ex 
pect from our Heavenly Father. " If you^ heing evil^ hnow 
how to give good gifts to your children^ how much more will 
your Father who is in heaven^ give good things to them that 
ash RimP"^ What would be the thought of an earthly 
father who laid upon his son a command which it was all 
but impossible for him to comply with, and then punished 
him with the utmost rigor for not fulfilling it ? You would 
aot call that man a father, but a tyrant ; a tyrant like Pha- 

♦ St. Matt. viL 11. 



440 KEEPiiCG t:*he law jot impossiblk. 

raoh, who would not give straw to the children of Israel, 
and yet set taskmasters over them to exact of them the full 
measure of bricks as when straw had been given them. 
Why, if you were going along the street and saw a man wliip- 
ping unmercifully an overloaded horse, you would not bear 
it patiently. And would you attribute conduct so disgrace* 
fill among men to our Father in heaven ? God forbid ! Far 
be such a thought from us ! It is not so. We must not 
think it. At least we cannot think it as long a? we remain 
Catholics ; for when the earlier Protestants pioclaimed the 
shocking doctrine that though God punished men for dis- 
obeying his law, man was really unable to obey it, the Church 
branded the doctrine as a heresy to be abhorred of all men, 
as most false in itself, and most injurious to God. No ; God 
loves his creatures far more than we conceive of. He does 
not desire the death of a sinner. He wills truly the salvation 
of all men. His goodness and mercy, His truth and justice, 
are all so many infallible guarantees of our ability to keep 
His law. He would not have given us His law unless He had 
meant us to keep it. He would not punish us so severely for 
breaking it, unless our breaking it was an act of deliberate, 
wilful, determined rebellion. 

But there is another source from which I draw the con- 
clusion that it is possible to keep the law of God — from the 
nature of the law itself. The law of God is of such a nature 
that, for the most part, in order to commit mortal sin, it is 
necessary to do or to leave undone some external act, which 
of its own nature it is entirely in our power to do or not to 
do. For instance, the law says, ''Thou shalt not steal j'^y 
now, to steal, you have got to put your hand into your neigh- 
bor's pocket. The law says : " Thou shalt do no murder ;" 
to murder, you must stretch out your hand against your 
neighbor's life. Nay, it requires ordinarily several external 
actions before a mortal sin is consummated. Thus the thief 
has his precautions to take, and his plans to lay. The drunk- 



KEEPING THE LAW KOT IMPOSSIBLE. 441 

afd lias to seek the occasion. He seeks the grogshop. Every 
step he takes is a separate act. When he gets there, it is not 
the first glass that makes him drunk. He drinks again and 
again, and it is only after all these different and repeated ac- 
tions that he falls into the mortal sin of drunkenness. Now, 
here you see are external acts-— acts in which the hand, the 
foot, the lips, are concerned, and which, therefore, it is per- 
fectly in our power to do or to let alone. This requires no 
proof, but admits of a striking illustration. You have heard 
of the great sufferings of the martyrs ; how some of them 
were stoned to death, others flayed alive, others crucified, 
others torn to pieces by wild beasts, others burned to death. 
Now, what was it all about? You answer, ''They suffered 
because they would not deny Christ." Very well ; but how 
were they required to deny Christ ? What w as it they were 
required to do ? I will tell you. Sometimes they were re- 
quired to take a few grains of incense and throw it on the 
altar of Jupiter ; that would have been enough to have saved 
them from their sufferings. They need not have said, " I 
renounce Christ ;" only to have taken the incense would have 
been sufficient. Sometimes they were required to tread on 
the cross. Sometimes to swear by the genius of the Eoman 
emperor ; that was all. And the fire was kindled to make 
them do these things ; but they would not. The flames 
leaped upon them, but not a foot would they lift from the 
ground. Their hands were burnt to the bone, but no incense 
would they touch. The marrow of their bones melted in the 
heat, and forced from them a cry of agony, but the name of 
the emperor's tutelary genius did not pass their lips. Now, 
will you tell me that you cannot help doing what the martyrs 
would not do to save them from death ? They had a fire be- 
fore them and a scourge behind them, and they refused ; and 
you say you cannot help yourself when you are under no ex- 
ternal violence whatever ! They died rather than lift a hand 
to do a forbidden thing j liave you not the same power over 



442 KEEPING THE LAW NOT IMPOSSIBLE. 

your hand that they had ? They died rather than utter a 
sinful word ; have you not as much power over your tongue 
as they? Indeed you have, for you control both one and the 
other whenever you will. I say there is no sinner whose 
conduct does not sliow that his actions are perfectly in his 
own power. The thief waits for the night to carry on his 
trade ; during the day he is honest enough. The greatest 
libertine knows how to behave himself in the presence of a 
high-born and virtuous female. And even that vice which 
men say it is most difficult of all to restrain when once the 
habit is formed — profane swearing — ^you knew how to re- 
strain it when you will, for even the heaviest curser and 
swearer ceases from his oaths before the priest, or any other 
friend whom he greatly respects, l^ow, if you can stop 
cursing befoi^ the priest, why can you not before your wife 
and children? If you can be chaste in the presence of a 
virtuous female, why can you not be chaste everywhere ? If 
you can be honest when the eye of man is on you, why can 
you not be honest when no eye sees you but that of God ? 

" But," some onemay say, " there is a class of sins to which 
the remarks you have made do not apply, that is, sins (^f 
thought. You must admit that they are of such a natrire 
that it is all but impossible not to commit them." No, I do 
not admit it. I acknowledge that sins of thouglit are rj0.ore 
difficult to guard against than sins of action ; but I do not 
acknowledge that it is impossible to guard against iLem. 
To prove this, I have only to remind you that an evil thought 
is no sin until we give consent to it. To keep always free 
from evil thoughts may be impossible, because the imagina- 
tion is in its nature so volatile, that but few men have it in 
control; but, though it be not possible to restrain the imagi- 
nation, it is always possible to restrain the will. In order 
for the wiU to consent to evil it 'is necessary both to knouj 
and to choose^ and therefore from the nature of the thing one 
can never fall into sin either inevitably or unawares. And 



KEEPING .THE LAW .VOT IMPOSSIBLE. 443 

besides, the will has a powerful ally in the conscience, whose 
province it is to keep us from sin and to reproach ns when 
we do sin — so that it is scarcely possible, for one who habit- 
ually tries to keep free from mortal sin, to fall into it with- 
out his conscience giving a distinct and unmistakable report; 
And this is so certain that spiritual writers say that a person 
of good life and tender conscience, who is distressed with 
the uncertainty whether or no he has given consent to an 
evil temptation, ought to banish that anxiety altogether and 
to be sure that he has not consented. But suppose these 
evil temptations are importunate, and remain in the soul 
even when we resist them, and try to turn from them ? l^o 
matter. They do not become sins on that account; nay, 
they become the occasion of acts of great virtue. It is re- 
lated in the life of St. Catharine of Sienna that on one oc- 
casion that pure virgin's soul was assailed by the most horri- 
ble temptations of the devil. They lasted for a long time^ 
and after the conflict our Saviour appeared to her with a 
serene countenance. "O my Divine Spouse," she said, 
" where wast thou when I was enduring these conflicts ?" 
" In thy soul," he replied. " What, with all these filthy 
abominations.?" ''Yes, they were displeasing and painful 
to thee ; this therefore was thy merit, and thy victory was 
owing to My presence." So that we see even here, where 
the danger is greatest, the law of God exacts of us nothing 
but what in its own nature is in our power to do or not to do. 
But if you wish another proof of your ability to keep 
God's law, I allege the jpower of His grace, I can imagine 
an objector saying : " You have not touched the real diffi- 
culty, after all. The difficulty is not on God's side ; no doubt 
He is good and holy. IsTeither are the requirements of his 
law so very hard. The difficulty is in us. We are fallen 
by nature. We have sinned after baptism. We are so 
weak, so frail, that to us continued observance of the divine 
commandments is impossible." No, my brethren, neither ie 



444 KEEPING THE LAW NOT IMPOSSIBLE. 

this true. It is not true from the moutli of any man ; least 
of all from the mouth of a Christian. '^ N'o temptation^^ 
Bays the Apostle, " hath taken hold of you hut such as is 
human. And God is faithful^ who will not suffer you to 
he tempted ahove that which you are able: hut will also 
\cith the temptation mahe a way of escape that you may he 
able to bear itP'^ The weakest and frailest are strono^ enous-h 
with God's grace, and this grace He is ready to give to those 
that need it. At all times and in all places He has been 
ready to give His grace to them that need it, but especially 
is this true under the gospel. The Holy Scriptures make 
this the distinguishing characteristic of the times of the gos- 
pel, that they shall abound in grace. " Take co'urage^ and 
fear not^'^ the prophet says, in anticipation of the time when 
Christ should come in the flesh, '^ Behold^ God will come 
and save you. Then shall the eyes of the blind he opened^ 
and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Then shall the lame 
man leap as an hart^ and the tongue of the dumb shall he 
free; for %oaters are broken out of the desert., and streams in 
the wilderness. And that which was dry land shall become 
a pool^ and the thirsty land springs of water. ^^f Such was 
the promise, hundreds of years before Christ, of a time of 
peace, of happiness and grace ; and when our Lord was come, 
He published that the good time had indeed arrived : " The 
spirit of the Lord hath anointed me to preach the gospel to 
the poor. He hath sent me to heal the contrite of heart. To 
preach deliverance to the captive^ and sight to the blind^ to 
set at liberty them that are bruised^ to preach the acceptable 
year of the Lord^X Yes, the great time has come ; the cool 
of the day ; the evening of the world ; the time when labor is 
light and reward abundant. O my brethren, you know not 
what a privilege it is to be a Christian ! You enter a churclu 
You see a priest in his confessional. A penitent is kneeling at 

♦I Cor. X. 13. *Is. XXXV. 4-7. % St. Luke iv.„ 18, 19 



KEEPING THE LAW NOT IMPOSSIBLE. 445 

his feet. The sight makes but little impression on you, for you 
are accustomed to it, but this is that ''fountain " promised 
by the prophet " to the house of David and to the inhabitants 
of Jerusalem^ for the washing of the sinner y'' a fountain that 
flows from the Saviour's side, and not only cleanses, but 
strengthens and makes alive. You pass an altar. The priest 
is giving communion. Stop ! it is the Lord himself! the 
bread of angels ! the wine of virgins ! the food " whereof if a 
man eat he shall live forever. '^^ And not only in the church 
do you find grace ; it follows you home. You shut your door 
behind you, and your Father in heaven waits to hear and 
grant your prayer. Nay, at all times God is with you, for 
you are the temple of God, and He sits on the throne of your 
heart to scatter His grace on you whenever and wherever 
you ask Him. Do not say, then, Christian, that you are un. 
able to do what God requires of you. It is a sin of black in- 
gratitude to say so. Even if it were impossible for others to 
keep the law of God, it is not for you. He hath not done to 
every nation as he hath done to you. When the patriarch 
Jacob was dying, he blessed all his children, but his richest 
blessing was for Joseph. So God has blessed all the children 
of His hand, but you. Christian, are the Joseph whom He 
hath loved more than all Has other sons. To others He hath 
given of " the dew of heaven ^^^ and " the fatness of the earth^^ 
but you ''* He hath Uessed with all spiritual Uessings in 
Christ. '^^ 

Away, then, with the notion that obedience to the com- 
mandments of God is impracticable — a notion dishonorable 
to God and to ourselves. It is possible to keep free from 
mortal sin — for all— at all times, under all temptations. 
Nay, I Will say more. It is, on the whole, easier to live a 
life of Christian obedience, than a life of sin. I say " on the 
•whole," for I do not deny that here and there, in particular 
cases, it is harder to do right than wrong ; but taking life all 
through, one who restrains his passions wilU have less trouble 



446 KEBPma the law not impossible. 

ttan one wlio indulges ttienl. Seroic actions are Hot re- 
quired of us everj day. In order to be a Clii'istianj it is not 
necessary to be always higb-strung and entbusiastic. It is 
not necessary to be a devotee, to adopt set and precise ways, 
to take up witb bypocrisy and cant — in a word, to be un- 
manly. It is just, for tbe most part, tbe most matter of fact, 
tbe most practical, tbe most simple and straigbt-forwa rd 
tbing in tbe world. It is to be a man of principle. It is to 
bave a serious, abiding purpose to do our duty. It is to be 
full of courage ; not tbe courage of tbe braggart, but tbe 
courage of tbe soldier — tbe courage tbat tbrives under oppo- 
sition, and survives defeat, tbe courage tbat takes tbe means to 
secure success — vigilance, bumility, steadfastness, and prayer. 
Before tbis, all difficulties vanisb, and tbis is wbat we want 
most of all. It is amazing bow little courage tbere is in tbe 
world. We are like tbe servant of Eliseus, tbe propbet, wbo, 
wben be awoke in tbe morning, and saw tbe great army tbat 
bad been sent by tbe King of Syria to take bis master, said, 
^^ Alas^ alas^ alas^ my lord ; what shall we do T But Eli- 
seus sbowed bim anotber army— tbe army of angels ranged 
on tbe mountain, witb cbariots of fire and borses of fire, 
ready to figbt for tbe servants of God, and be said, " Fear not : 
for there are more with us than with theraP ^ Wby sbould 
we fear? Obristianity is no new tbing. Tbe patb of Cbris- 
tian obedience is not an untried patb. Tbousands bave trod 
it and are now enjoying tbeir reward. God, and tbe angels, 
and tbe saints, are on our side. And tbere are multitudes 
of faitbful souls in tbe w^ord wbo are figbting tbe good figbt, 
and keeping tbeir souls unsullied. We cannot distinguisb 
tbem now, but one day we sball know tbem. Ob ! let us 
join tbem. Yes, we will make our resolution now. Otbers 
may guide tbemselves by pleasure or expediency ; we wil] 
adopt tbe language of tbe Psalmist : " Thy Word is a lamp 

* IV. Kings vL 15-17. 



I 



THE SPIRIT OF SACRIFICE. 447 

to myfeei^ and a light to my patTisP"^ We will be Chris- 
tians, not in name, but in deed. Not for a time only, but 
always. One thought shall cheer us in sadness and nerve us 
in weakness : ^'^ I have sworn and am determined to Tceep the 
judgments of Thy justice^^ f 



SEEMOK XXIV. 

THE SPIRIT OP SACRIFICE. 

(foe the feast of ST. LAUEENCE, MAETYE.) 

**I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present 
your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, pleasing to Grod, your reasonable service.'' — 
Rom. xvn. 1. 

There is, my brethren, among many men who practise 
Christian duties to a certain extent, one remarkable 
want. I will call it the want of the Spirit of Sacrifice, 
Compare such men with any of the saints, and you will see 
at once what I mean. One saint may differ a great deal from 
another, but this is common to them all — a vivid sentiment 
of God's greatness and Sovereignty, of His right to do with 
us what He wills, and a willing and reverent recognition of 
that right. Now the defective Christianity to which I allude 
lacks this spirit altogether. It differs from the Christianity 
of the saints not only in degree but in kind. Not only does 
it fail to produce as m^any sacrifices as the saints made for 
God, but the idea of Sacrifice is completely strange and 
foreign to it. It bargains about the commandments of God, 
and, when any commandment is diflScult, postponris fulfil- 
ment, or refuses it altogether. To prevent any of you from 
being content with so imperfect and unsatisfactory a sort o* 

♦ Pa cxviiL 105. \ Ibid. 106. 



448 THE SPIEIT OF SACKIPICK. 

religion, I will give you this morning some reasons why yoU 
Bhould aim to serve God in the spirit of sacrifice. 

First, then, I assert that the spirit of sacrifice is necessary. 
God requires it of us. On this point I think some people 
make a mistake. They seem to think that a willingness to 
make sacrifices for God is one of the ornamental or heroic 
parts of religion, and that everyday people are not required 
to have it. But this is not so. The Spirit of Sacrifice is re- 
quired of every one. I infer this from the fact that an ex- 
ternal sacrificial worship is necessary. It is frequently said 
that there is no religion without a sacrifice. And this is true. 
There never has been, nor indeed could there be, a true re- 
ligion without having some external act of sacrificial worship. 
But why is this necessary ? Not simply because we are sin- 
ners and need propitiation, for some theologians have thouglit 
that sacrifices would have been necessary, though man had 
never sinned. What religion requires a sacrifice for, is this 
— to express our sense of God's supreme Sovereignty. In a 
Sacrifice there is something offered to God and destroyed, 
thus signifying that God is the Author of Life and Death, 
our Creator, our Ruler, our Supreme Judge. The excellence 
of the Christian Sacrifice — the Sacrifice of the Mass — consists 
in this, that the victim offered is a living, reasonable^ Divine 
Victim, even the Son of God Incarnate, Who by K.^ Life 
and Death rendered most worthy homage to the Divine 
Majesty, and still in every Mass, continually, offers it 
anew. 

This, then, is what the Mass is given us for, and this is why 
we are required to assist at the Mass, that we may in a per- 
fect and worthy manner recognize God's Sovereignty and our 
dependence on Him. When we assist at Mass, tlie meaning 
of our action,,if put into words, would be something like this : 
4' I acknowledge Thee, O God, for my Sovereign Lord, and 
the Supreme Disposer of my Life and Death, and because I 
am not able worthily to express Thy Greatness, I beg of Thee 



THE SPIRIT OF SACRIFICE. 449 

to accept, as if it were my own, all the submission with which 
Thy Son honored Thee on the Cross, and now again honors 
Thee in this Holy Sacrifice." Now, it cannot be imagined 
that we are required to make this profession to God without 
at the same time being required to have in our hearts that 
sentiment of God's greatness and sovereignty which we ex- 
press with our lips. Our Lord did not come to suffer and 
die, and give His life a sacrifice to the Father, to dispense us 
from the obligation of worshipping God ourselves, but to give 
to our worship a perfect example and a higher acceptability. 
Without our worship the Mass is incomplete. On our Lord's 
part, indeed, the Sacrifice of the Mass is always efiicacious, 
for He is present wherever it is celebrated ; but on our part 
it is empty and unmeaning if no one really fears God, sub- 
mits unreservedly to Him, is willing to do all He commands, 
and acknowledges that all that could be done for Him is too 
little. A worship of Sacrifice implies a life of sacrifice. This 
is beautifully illustrated in the life of St. Laurence, whose 
martyrdom we celebrate to-day. 

St. Laurence was one of the seven deacons of the city of 
Kome in the third century of the Christian era. As deacon, 
it was his office to serve the Mass of St. Xystus, who was at 
that time Pope. When the persecution broke out under the 
Emperor Valerius, St. Xystus was seized and carried off to 
martyrdom. As he was on his way, St. Laurence followed 
him weeping and saying: "Father, where are you going 
without your son ? Whither are you going, O holy priest, 
without your deacon ? Ton were not wont to offer sacrifice 
without me your minister, wherein have I displeased you ? 
Have you found me wanting to my duty ? Try me now and 
see whether you have made choice of an unfit minister for 
dispensing the Blood of the Lord." And St. Xystus replied : 
" I do not leave you, my son, but a greater trial and a more 
glorious victory are reserved for you who are stout and in the 
vigor of youth. We are spared on account of our weakness 



450 THE SPIRIT OF SACEIFICJfi. 

aud old age. You shall follow me in tliree days." And, in 
fact, three days afcer, St. Laurence was burnt to death, his 
faith rendering him joyfal, even mirthful in his sufferings. 

Now, I do not look on this conversation as poetry. Times 
of affliction are not times when men look around for fine 
ways of expressing themselves. At such times words come 
straight from the heart. I see, then, in the words of St. 
Laurence the sentiments with which he was accustomed to 
assist at Mass. As he knelt at the foot of the altar at which 
the Pope was celebrating, clothed in the beautiful dress of a 
deacon, his soul was filled with the thoughts of God's great, 
ness and goodness, and along with the offering of the heavenly 
Victim, he used to offer to God his fervent desire to do some- 
thing to honor the Divine Majesty, the color sometimes 
mounting high in his youthful cheek as he thought how 
joyfully he would yield his own heart's blood as a sacrifice, 
if the occasion should offer. Martyrdom to him was but 
a natural completion of Mass. It was but the realisation of 
his habitual worship. 

In the early history of the city of St. Augustine, in Florida, 
it is related that a priest, who was attacked by a party oi 
Indians, asked permission to say Mass before he died. This 
was granted him, and the savages waited quietly till the 
Mass was ended. Then the priest knelt on the altar steps 
and received the death-blow from his murderers. With 
what sentiments must that priest have said Mass ! with what 
devotion ! with what reverence ! with what self-oblation ! 
So, I suppose St. Laurence, and St. Xystus, and the Chris- 
tians of the old time were accustomed always to assist at 
Mass, with the greatest desire to honor God, the most com- 
plete spirit of self-sacrifice. Now, I do not say we are all 
bound to be as. holy as these great saints. I do not even say 
we are bound to desire martyrdom ; but I do say there is not 
one kind of Christianity for the saints and anotlier for ordi- 
nary Christians ; one kind, all self-denial for them, and another 



TlIE SPIRIT OF SACRIFICE. 451 

kind, all self-indulgence, for us. I say God is to us what He 
is to the saints^our Creator and our Sovereign ; and He 
demands of us the worship of creatures and subjects — the 
worship of sacrifice — a willingness to do all he demands of 
us now, and a readiness to do greater things the moment 
that He makes it known to us that such is His Will. 

How many difficulties, my brethren, such a spirit takes 
out of the way of Christian obedience ! It cuts off at one 
blow all our struggles with the decrees of God's providence. 
How much of our misery comes from murmurings against 
the providence of God ! One is suffering under sickness and 
pain, another is overwhelmed with reverses and afflictions^ 
another is irritated by continual temptations. No one can 
deny that these are severe trials ; but see how the spirit of 
sacrifice disposes of them. It says to the sick man, to the 
suffering man, what Isaac said to his father Abraham on the 
mountain : " See, here is fire and wood, but where is the 
victim for a burnt offering?" Here are the materials for a 
beautiful act of sacrifice. It wants only a meek heart for a 
victim, and love to light the flame, to turn the sickbed, the 
house of mourning, the soul agitated by temptation, into an 
altar of the purest worship, and the language of complaint 
into the liturgy of praise. Again : it sometimes happens 
that a man gets involved in relations of business or friend- 
ship, or becomes addicted to some indulgence, which threaten 
to ruin his soul, and he is required to renounce them, to give 
up the intimacy, to change his business, to deny himself that 
indulgence. The command of God is distinct and peremp- 
tory : "If thy hand or thy foot scandalize thee^ cut it off and 
cast it from thee. And if thy eye scandalize thee^ pinch it out 
and cast it from theeP ^ How does he receive it ? He 
says : " It is too hard." Too hard ! And is it, then, only 
God for whom we are unwilling to do any thing hard ? We 

* St. Matt, xviii. 8. 



462 THE SPIRIT OF SACRIFICE. 

must make sacrifices of some sort in life, and heavy ones, 
too. "We cannot get rid of the necessity of making them, 
do what we will. The world requires them of us. Our 
families require them. Our health requires them. Our 
pleasure requires them. Nay, our very sins require them. 
And what we do willingly for the world, for our families, for 
our health, our pleasure, our sins, shall we refuse to do for 
the great and good God ? for Christ our Saviour, who did 
not refuse the Cross to give us an example of the obedience 
we owe His Father ? 

Or take another example : A person who is not a Catho- 
lic finds much that is reasonable in Catholic doctrine, but 
makes a great stumbling-block of confession; or even a 
Catholic gets a dread of it, and stays away for years and 
years from the sacraments of the Church. Now, of course, 
in such cases it is only charitable to show that the difiiculty 
of confession is very much magnified, and that, like manj 
other things that frighten us, it loses its terror when we ap- 
proach it ; but, to say the truth, I always feel something like 
shame when I hear one trying to prove to such persons that 
confession is easy ; partly because I know he cannot suc- 
ceed perfectly, since confession is of its own nature arduous, 
and in particular cases may be very difficult ; but chiefly, 
because I cannot help thinking if God Himself were to an- 
swer them, it would be in the few strong words He has used 
in the Holy Scripture : "Be still : and Jcnow that I am GodP ^ 
A creature must not parley with his Maker, a sinner with 
his Judge. 

Yes : we shrink from the very mention of sacrifice, yet it 
is the spirit of sacrifice that makes all our duties easy. No 
doubt it is our privilege to reason about tlie commandments 
of God ; and we shall often see, what we know is always the 
case, that they are full of wisdom and goodness ; but wo 

♦ Pi. xlv. II 



THE SPIKTT OF SACRIFICE. 453 

need ia practice some principle that is ready at hand always 
to be used in every time of trial, in every difficulty, and that 
is the Spirit of Sacrifice, a profound reverence for God, an 
unquestioning conviction of His absolute right to dispose of 
us as He will. Abraham had this spirit, and therefore falter^ 
not a moment when the command came to sacrifice his son 
Isaac. Moses had it, and therefore " when he was grown 
uj>^ refused to he called the son of PharaoK s daughter^ choos- 
ing rather to suffer persecution with the people of God, than 
to enjoy the pleasure of sin for a timeP ^ The Christian 
saints have had it, and therefore they trampled on every 
repugnance, every attachment, when it came in the way of 
their perfection. And this principle is the life of the grea 
religious and charitable orders of the Church. These insti 
tutions are a mystery to Protestants. Soon after the " Little 
Sisters of the Poor " were established in London, a Protestant 
writer, in one of the periodicals of the day, described a visit 
he had made to their establishment, and after o-iyino; a most 
interesting account of the self-denying labors of the com- 
munity, he says he was curious to trace the feelings that ac- 
tuated these ladies in devoting themselves to duties so apt to 
be repulsive to their class. He supposed that benevolence 
was the impulse most concerned, but, on questioning the 
Sisters, found that this was not the case, but that the basis 
of their action was a principle of self-renunciation for Christ's 
sake. To him such a motive had in it something strange 
and unnatural; but, really, this is always the sustaining 
principle of all high religious action. Every thing fails sooner 
or later but the spirit of sacrifice. This is the spirit that 
does great things for God, that cuts down the mountains in 
oui- road to heaven and fills up the valleys, making straight 
paths for our feet. 

And how pleasing is such a spirit to God ! Even among 

♦ Heb. xL 24. 



4:54 THE SPIKIT OF SACKlFlCEf. 

men such a spirit is higlily esteemed. Who does not admire 
a generous, self-sacrificing man? In a family, who is so 
much loved as the one whose thoughts are all for others? 
Where are such tears shed as over the fresh grave of a self- 
forgetful friend ? What makes the character of a mother so 
beautiful but the trait of self-sacrifice ? And so before God 
there is nothing so beautiful as the spirit of Sacrifice. A 
religion which does not centre in itself, but which centres in 
God, that is His delight. There is nothing abject in such a 
spirit. To serve God is to reign. God knows our nature, 
and He requires of us nothing but what gives to our whole 
being its highest harmony. The man who has the spirit of 
sacrifice is a royal man. How beautiful, my brethren, is an 
altar ! Every thing connected in our minds with an altar is 
beautiful. When we think of an altar, we think of sweet 
flowers and burning lights, and smoking incense, and a meek 
victim, and worship, music, and prayer. So, in the heart 
where the spirit or Sacrifice reigns, there are sweet flowers 
of piety, and flaming zeal, and the silent victim of a heart 
that struggles not, and the incense of prayer, and the har- 
monies of joy and praise. Oh, if there is a sacred place on 
earth, a home of peace, a shrine, a holy of holies, a place 
where heaven and earth are nearest, where God descends 
and takes up His abode, it is in the heart of the man who is 
penetrated through and through with the sense of God's 
greatness, and who walks before Him in reverence and con- 
tinual worship. 

My brethren, I covet for you such a spirit. I do not al- 
ways find it among Catholics. I remember, some years ago, 
when collecting for a charitable object, I called on a man who 
was engaged in a large business, and asked for a contribution. 
He said, Oh yes, he thought highly of the undertaking, and 
wished to give a generous donation, say one hundred dollars. 
When I called for it at the appointed time, he asked me if I 
did not want any goods in his line. They were articles of 



THE SPIRIT OF SACRIFICE. 455 

luxury, such as very few persons have occasion for, and I 
told him, no. Then he mentioned a rich gentleman with 
whom I happened to be acquainted, and asked me to secure 
for him his custom, intimating that this donation of one 
hundred dollars depended on my success. Now I do not 
know that this person was at all sensible of acting an im- 
worthy part, but I think you must all feel that this was very 
far from the spirit in which one ought to give any thing to 
God ; and yet, my brethren, inferior motives enter too much 
and too often into our religious actions. Selfishness mingles 
too much with our piety. Oh, how diluted, how paltry and 
feeble is our religion, compared with that of other times ! 
David refused the site for an altar that Areuna offered him 
as a gift, saying : " Nay hut I will huy it of thee at a price; 
and will not offer to the Lord wv God holocausts free costP ^ 
Magdalene took a box of spikenard ointment, because it was 
the most precious thing she had, and very costly, and broke 
the box, and poured it wastefully on the Saviour's head.f 
Those who have examined the cathedrals of Europe that 
were built in the Middle Ages, tell us that away up on the 
outside of the roof, there is found carving as rich, as beauti- 
ful, and as elaborate as that on the parts in full sight. A 
human eye would hardly see it once a year ; no matter : it 
was done for the eye of Grod and the angels. Oh that you 
had such a spirit ! I want you to think more of God. I 
want you to fear Kim more deeply, and to love Ilim far, fir 
more fervently. O my brethren, is the service you are ren- 
dering Him at all worthy of Him ? Look at the earth and 
sky that He has made ; look at the glorious Throne of Light 
from which He sways the universe, look at the Cross, look 
into your own hearts, and answer. " Holy things are for the 
Holy." " Great is the Lord^ and greatly to he praised PX 
" Lord God Almighty^ just and true^ who shall ?iot fear 

♦ 2 King^ ixiv. 21 f St. Matt. xxvi. % J Psalm xlvii I. 



Mary's destiny a type of ours. 

Thee and magnify Thy Name ! "* " As the eyes of serv- 
a7its are on the hands of their masters^ and as the eyes of a 
handmaid are on the hands of her mistress^ so our eyes are 
unto Thee^ Lord our God^ Thou that dwellest in the hea/o- 



SERMON XXY. 

MARY'S DFSTTNY A TYPE OF OURS. 
(the feast of the assumption.) 

"Mary hath chosen the best part, which shall not be taken away from 
*her." — St. Luke x. 42. 

To-day is the Assumption of the Blessed Yirgin Mary. 
To-day she entered into the enjoyment of heaven. The trials 
and troubles of life are over. The time of banishment is 
ended. She closes her eyes on this world, and opens them to 
the vision of God. She is exalted to-day above the choirs of 
nngels to the heavenly kingdom, and takes her seat at the 
right hand of her Son. I do not mean to attempt any de- 
scription of her glory in heaven. I am sure whatever I could 
say would fall far short, not only of the reality, but of your 
own glowing thoughts about her. Who is there that needs 
to be told that the Blessed Yirgin is splendid in sanctity, 
dazzling in beauty, and exalted in power ? But, my brethren, 
it is possible to contemplate the Blessed Yirgin in sucli a way 
as to put her at too great a distance from us. It is possible to 
conceive of her glory in heaven as flowing entirely from her 
dignity as Mother of God, and therefore to suppose it alto- 
gether unattainable by us ; and, as a consequence of this, to 
regard her with feelings full of admiration indeed, but almost 

• Apoc. XV. 3. f PsaUn cxxii. 2. 



Mary's destiny a type of ours. 457 

as deficient in sympathy as if slie were of another nature from 
us. Now, this is to rob onrselves of so ennobling and encour- 
aging a part of our privilege as Christians, and at the same 
time to take away from our devotion to the Blessed Virgin an 
element so useful and important, that I have determined, on 
this her glorious Feast, to remind you that our destiny and 
the destiny of Mary are substantially the same. 

And the first proof I offer of this is, that the glory of the 
Blessed Virgin in heaven is not owing to her character as 
Mother of God, but to her correspondcDce to grace — to her 
good works — to her love of God — in a word, to her fidelity 
as a Christian. This is certam, tor it is the Catholic doctrine 
that the Blessed Virgin, like every other saint, gained heaven 
only as the reward of merit. Now, she could not merit it by 
becoming the Mother of God. Her being the Mother of God 
is indeed a most august dignity, but there is no merit in it. 
It is a dignity conferred on her by the absolute decree of God, 
just as He resolved to confer angelic nature on angels, oi 
human nature on men. It is no doubt a great happiness and 
glory for us to be men, and not brutes, but there is no merit 
in it ; so there is honor but no merit in the Blessed Virgin's 
being the Mother of God. Now, if she did not merit heaven 
by becoming the Mother of God, how did she merit it ? for 
it is of faith that heaven is the reward of merit. I answer, 
by her life on earth. It was not as the Mother of God 
that she won heaven, but as Mary, the daughter of Joa- 
chim, the wife of Joseph, the mother of Jesus. It is 
impossible to read the Gospels without seeing how careful our 
Lord was to make us understand this. He seems to have 
been afraid, all along, that the splendor of that character of 
Mother of God would eclipse the woman and the saint. 
Thus once when He was preaching, a woman in the crowd, 
hearing his words of wisdom, and, perhaps, piercing the veil 
of his humanity, and thinking what a blessed thing it must 
be to be the mother of such a soUj exclaimed* "W.^^.^^ed ?^ 
20 



458 M^ilYS DESTINY A TYPE OF OURS. 

the womT) that tare thee^ and the jpajps that gave thee sucTc^'* 
but He answered immediately: " Yea rather^ Uessed are 
they who hear the word of God and keep itP No one doubts 
tbat the Blessed Virgin did bear tbe Word of God, and keep 
it. So our Lord's words are as mucb as to say : " You praise 
my motber for being my motber ; wbat I praise ber for is 
ber sanctity." In tbe same way, wben tbey came to Him on 
anotber occasion, wben tbere was a great tbrong about Him 
and said, ""Behold^ thy mother and thy brethren stand 
without^ seeking thee^'^ He answered, '' Who is my mother ? 
and who are 7ny brethren ? And stretching forth his hand 
towards his disciples^ he said: Behold my mother and my 
brethren. For whosoever shall do the will of my Father who 
is in heaven^ he is my brother^ and sister^ and mother. ^ Ex- 
ternal advantages, bowever great, even to be related to tbe 
Son of God, are as notbing in bis sigbt, compared to* tbat in 
wbicb all may bave a part — obedience to bis Fatber's will. 
Perbaps, also, tbis is tbe explanation of bis language at tbe 
marriage of Oana in Galilee. Wben tbe wine failed, and bis 
motber came to Him and asked Him to exert bis Divine 
power to supply tbe want. He said : '' Woman^ what hast 
thou to do with me f My time is not yet come^'X He does 
not allow ber request on tbe score of ber maternal autbority, 
but wbat He refuses on tbis ground He grants to ber virtue 
and boliness, for He immediately proceeds to perform tbe 
miracle sbe asked for, tbougb, as He said, bis time was not 
yet come. So, too, on tbe cross He commends tbe Blessed 
Virgin to St. Jobn's care, not under tbe bigb title of Motber^ 
but tbe lowly one of woman. ^' Woman^ hehold thy 8071^^ 
Now, wby was tbis ? * Did not our Lord love bis Motber i 
Was He not disposed to be obedient to ber as bis motber 



♦ St. Luke xi. 21. f St. Matt. xii. 48. 

X St. John ii. 4 (Archbishop Kenrick's translation). 
§ St John xix. 26, 



MARY'S DESTINY A TYPE OF OURS. 459 

Certainly ; but it was for our sakes He spoke tlius. lu pri- 
vate, at Nazareth, we are told, he was " subject to her,'- but 
on <-hese great public occasions, when crowds were gathered 
around Eim to hear Him preach, when He hung on the 
Cross, and a world was looking on. He put out of view her 
maternal grandeur, in compijssion to us, lest there should be 
too great a distance between her and us, and we should lose 
the force of her example. He wished us to understand that 
Mary, high as she was, was a woman, and in the same order 
of grace and providence with us. We might have said : 
" Oh, the Blessed Virgin obtains what she asks for on easy 
terms. She has but to ask and it is done. She enters heaven 
as the son of a nobleman comes into his father's estate, by the 
mere title of blood and lineage." But no: our Saviour says : 
To sit on my right hand is not mine to give you^ hut to them 
for whom it is prepared hy my Father. ''^^ It is not a matter 
of favor and arbitrary appointment ; not even my Mother 
gains her glory in that way. She must comply with the 
terms on which my Father promises heaven to men, and there 
fore the Church applies to her words spoken of another Mary : 
" Mary hath chosen the hesi part ; therefore it shall not he 
taken away from herP Oh, blessed truth ! Mary is one of 
us. Her destiny, high as it is, is a human destiny. And she 
reached it in a human fashion. She built that splendid 
throne of hers in heaven with care and labor while she was 
on the earth. She laid the foundation of it in her childhood, 
when her feet trod the Temple aisles. She reared its pillars 
when with faith, purity, and obedience unequalled, she receiv- 
ed the message of the archangel. And her daily life at 
Bethlehem, Egypt, and Nazareth, her holy, loving ways with 
Joseph and with Jesus, her perfect fulfilment of God's law, 
her interior fervQnt acts of prayer, covered it with gold and 
ivory. 

♦ St. Mat+. XX. 23. 



460 Mary's destiny a type of cdrs. 

Then, when the blind world was going on its way of folly ; 
while one King Herod was deluging villages in blood, and 
another steeping his soul in the guilt of incest, and of the 
blood of the Son of God ; while the multitude were doubting, 
and Scribes and Pharisees disputing about Christ, the lowly 
Jewish maiden, with no other secret but love and prayer, 
was preparing for herself that bright mansion in Heaven 
wherein she now dwells, rejoicing eternally with her Son. 
Oh, happy news ! One, at least, of our race has perfectly 
fulfilled her destiny. Here we can gain some idea of what 
God created us for. Here is the destiny that awaits man 
when original sin does not mar it ; when co-operation with 
grace and unswerving perseverance secure it. The Jews 
were proud of Judith. They said : " Thou art the glory of 
Jerusalem J thou art the joy of Israel j thou art i^he honor 
of our people.^'^ So we may say of Mary : '' O Mary, thou 
art the pride of our race. In thee the design of God in our 
creation has been perfectly attained. In thee the redemp- 
tion of Christ has had its perfect fruit. Mankind conceives 
new hopes from thy success." Christ, indeed, has entered 
into glory; but Christ was God. Mary is purely human, 
and Mary has succeeded. Why tarry we here in the bondage 
of EgjT^t ? Mary has crossed the Eed Sea, and has taken a 
timbrel in her hand and sings her thanksgiving imto God. 
True it is that she is fleet of foot, and we are all halt and 
weak; but even she needed the grace of God, and the same 
grace is offered to us, that we may run and not faint. 
Listen to her song of triumph. She does not set herself 
above us, but claims kindred with us, and bids us hope 
for the same grace which she has received. ^^Jiy soul 
doth 7nagnify the Lord^ for he hath exalted the humble^ 
and hath filed the hungry with good things. And his 
mercy is from generation to generation to them thai fear 
liimP 
. Another proof that the destiny of the Blessed Virgin ia 



MARY'S DESTINY A TYPE OF OURS. 461 

Bubstantially the same with ours, is the fact that the same ex- 
pressions are used to describe her glory and ours. Sometimes 
those who are not Catholics, when they hear what high words 
we use of the Blessed Virgin, are scandalized ; but we use 
almost no words of the Blessed Virgin that may not, in their 
measure, be applied to other saints. It is true that the 
Blessed Virgin has some gifts and graces in which she stand® 
alone — as her character of Mother of God, and her Immacu- 
late Conception — but, as I said before, these are dignities 
and ornaments conferred on her, and are not the source of 
her essential happiness in heaven. In other respects, her 
glory is shared by all the saints. Thus, Mary is called 
" Queen of Heaven ;" but are not all the blessed called in 
Holy Scripture, '' hings and priests unto God T^^ Is she 
said to sit at the " King's right hand ?" and are not we too 
promised a place at his right hand, and to " sit on thrones V^\ 
Is she called the ''Morning Star?" and does not St. Paul, 
speaking of all the saints, say, '' star differeth from star in 
glory .^'':j: Is she called a ''Mediatrix of Prayer?" and is it 
not said of every just man, that his ^^ continual ])r ay er avail- 
eth muGliT'^% Is she called the "Spouse of God?" and 
does not the Ahnighty, addressing every faithful soul, say, 
''My love^ my . dove^ my undefiledT'\ Is she called the 
" Daughter of the Most High ?" and are not we too called 
\ki^'' Sons of Godr'\ The glory of the Blessed Virgin, 
then, differs from that of the other saints in degree, but not 
in kind. She is not separated from them, but is one of them. 
She goes before them. She is the most perfect of them. 
But she is one of them. And for this reason, the glory of 
the Blessed Virgin gives us the best conception of the mag- 
nificence of our destiny. AVhen a botanist wishes to de- 
Bcribe a flower, he selects the most perfect specimen. When 



* Apoc. i. 6. \ Apoc. iii. 21. J I Cor. xv. 41. 

§ SU James v. 16. | Can. y. 2, ^ I St. John iiL 2. 



462 MARY'S DESTIJSrr A TYPE OF OUES. 

an anatomist draws a model of the human frame, lie mates 
it faultless. So we, to gain the truest idea of our destiny, 
must lift up our eyes to the Blessed Virgin on her heavenly 
throne, and say : " Oh ! my soul, see for what thou art cre- 
ated." Think of this, my brethren, as often as you kneel 
before her image, or meditate on her greatness. You cannot 
be what she is, but you can be like her. She is a creature 
like you. She is a human being like you. She is a Chris- 
tian like you. And her joy, her beauty, her glory, her 
wealth, her knowledge, her power— ru ay, even the mighty 
efficacy of her intercession — are only what, in their measure. 
God offers to you. " Glory ^ honor^ and peace to every one 
that worheth good i for there is no respect of persons with 
God:'"" 

If these things be so, what greatness it gives to human 
life. Perhaps, if you had lived in the times of the Blessed 
Virgin Mary, you would never have noticed her ; or if you 
had known her by sight, what would she have seemed to 
you but a good little Jewish girl, lowly and retiring in her 
manners and appearance ? or, later in life, a poor young 
woman thrust away, with her husband, from a crowded inn, 
or fleeing by night with an infant child ? or, still later, the 
mother of a condemned malefactor, watching his sufferings in 
the crowd. Herod did not know her, and the nobles of Jeru- 
salem were ignorant of her. She was not one of the friends of 
the queen's dancing daughters. Even the rustics of the village 
of Bethlehem looked down on her. She carried no servants 
about with her, and had no palace to live in. But Faith 
tells us of angel visits, of union with God, of heavenly good 
ness, and an immortal crown. So, in like manner, how our 
life becomes grand and dignified when it is lighted up by 
faith ! You know there are porcelain pictures, which in the 
hand are rough and unmeaning, but held up to the ]igl)t 

* Rom. ii. 10. 



Mary's destiny a type of ouks. 463 

reveal the most beautiful scenes and figures ; so our common, 
ordinary life, rough and unmeaning as it often seems, when 
enlightened by faith becomes all divine. There is a little 
girl who learns her lessons and obeys her parents, and tells 
the truth, and shuns every thing that is wicked; why, as 
that little girl kneels down to pray, I see a bright angel 
drawing near to her, and he smiles on her and says : " Hail ! 
Blessed art thou : the Lord is vjith theeP That young man 
who, by a sincere conversion, has thrown off the slavery of 
sin, and regained once more the grace of God — what is his 
heart but another cave of Bethlehem, in which Christ is 
born, and around which angels sing: ''Glory to God in the 
highest ; on earthy peace to men of good vnllp That Chris- 
tian family, where daily prayers are offered, and instruction 
and good example are given, and mutual fidelity is observed 
between the members — what is it but the Holy House of 
Nazareth ? — the Home of Jesus ? Yes, good Christian, do 
not be cast down because you are poor, or because you suffer, 
or because your opportunities of doing good are limited; 
live the life of a Christian, and you are living Mary's life on 
earth. We have not, indeed, Mary's perfect sinlessness, but 
we have the graces of baptism, by which we may vanquish 
sin. We have not, as she had, the visible presence of our 
Lord, but we have Him invisibly in our hearts, and sacra- 
m^entally, in the Holy Communion. We are not " full of 
grace," as she was, but we have grace without limit promised 
to us in answer to prayer. Let us assert the privileges of 
our birth-right. We belong to the new creation. Angels 
claim kindred with us. God is our Father. Heaven is our 
home. We are the children of the saints — yes, of her who 
is the greatest of the saints. Let us follow her footsteps, 
that one day we may come to our Assumpticin, the glory of 
which sui-passed even the power of St. John to utter. 
^'Dearly leloved, loe are now the sons of God ^ and it hath 
not yet a;pjpeared what we shall le. We hnow that when He 



464 mart's destiny a type of ours. 

shall ajpjpear we shall he like Him^ hecause we shall see Him 
as He is^^ 

Every thing depends on our co-operating with grace. How 
did the Blessed Virgin arrive at such glory ? By correspond- 
ing to every grace. See her at her Annunciation. The 
angel comes and tells her of the grace God has prepared 
for her. If she had not believed, if she had not assented, 
what would have come of it ? Why, she would have lost 
for all eternity the glory attached to that grace. But she 
did not refuse. She was ready for the grace when it was 
offered. She said : '' Fiat^'' " Be it done to me according to 
thy wordP Oh, how much hung on that Fiat ! an eternal 
glory in heaven. So it is with us. There are moments in 
our lives big with the issues of our future. God's purposes 
concerning the soul have a certain order. He gives one 
grace ; if we correspond to that He gives another ; if we do 
not correspond, we lose those that depended on it ; some- 
times, even., we lose our salvation altogether. This is the 
key of your destiny — fidelity to grace. You have an inspira- 
tion from God : He speaks to your soul. Oh, listen to Him, 
and obey Him ! To one He says : " Abandon, O sinner, 
your evil life, and turn to Me with all your heart." "I^ow is 
the accepted time^ now is the day of salvation !^^ To an- 
other, who is already in His grace, Ho sends inspirations to 
a more perfect life, a life of higher prayer and more uninter- 
rupted recollection. Another, by the sweet attractions of 
His grace. He draws away from home and kindred to serve 
Him as a Sister of Charity by the bed of suffering ; or as a 
nun, to live with Him in stillness and contemplation ; or as 
a priest, to win souls for heaven. Oh, sj)eak the word tliat 
Mary spoke: ''Be it done to me according to thy woidP 
Are you in sin ? Convert without delay. Are you leading 
a tepid, imperfect life ? Gird your loins to watchfulness and 

* St. John iii. 2. 



CARE FOR THE DEAD. 465 

praye]\ Do you feel in yourselves a vocation to a religions 
or sacerdotal life ? Eise np and obey withont delay. To- 
morrow may be too late. The grace may be forfeited for- 
ever. Why stand we all the day idle ? Heaven is filling up. 
Each generation sends a new company to the heavenly host. 
Time is going. The great business of life remains unac- 
complished. By our baptism we have been made children 
of God and heirs of heaven. Labor we, therefore, to enter 
into that rest. Mary, dear Mother, lift up thy voice for us 
in heaven, that we, following thy footsteps, may one day 
share thy glory, and with thee praise forever God the Father, 
Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen. 



SERMON XXVI. 

CARE FOR THE DEAD. 

(FIFTEENTU SUNDAY AFTEB PENTECOST.) 

" And when He came nigh to the gate of the city, behold a dead man was 
carried out." — St. Luke vn. 12. 

It is not at the gate of Naim only that such a procession 
miglit he met. From every city " dead men are carried out 
to the grave" — nay, from every house. Death knocks alike 
at the palace and the cabin. It is only a question of time 
with him. Sooner or later he comes to all. Yes, my breth- 
ren, a day will come to each home in this parish when a piece 
of black crape at the door will tell the world that death has 
been there. "Within there will be stillness and sadness, and 
in some darkened chamber, wrapt in a winding sheet, will 
lie the cold and lifeless form of some beloved member of your 
family — a father or mother ; a wife or husband ; a brother or 
sister ; a son or daughter. After a little while even that wiJ\ 
20* 



466 CARE FOR THE DEAD. 

be taken away from you. The time of the funeral will come. 
The mourners will go about the streets, and the dead will be 
buried out of your sight. I do not speak of this to make 
you sad. On the contrary, what I am going to say will, I 
know, be a source, the only real source, of comfort to you in 
the loss of your friends. I wish to remind you of your duties 
to the dead. Christianity does not permit us to bid farewell 
forever to our departed friends. Death, it tells us, does not 
sever the bond of duty and love between us and them. We 
still have duties toward them, and ^in the performance of 
those duties, while we are doing good to the dead, we are 
procuring for ourselves the best solace. What are those 
duties ? 

First : To give back the dead resignedly to God. It is not 
wrong to weep for the dead. It is not wrong, for we cannot 
help it. It is as impossible not to feel pain at such a separa- 
tion as it would be not to suffer when the surgeon's knife is 
cutting off an arm or a leg ; and, what nature demands, God 
does not forbid. Therefore the Holy Scripture says: ''My 
son, shed tears over the dead; and hegin to lament as if thou 
hadst suffered sor)ie great liarmP^ Do you think that poor 
widow of whom the Gospel speaks to-day could help weep- 
ing? She had known sorrow before, but then she had one 
support, a dear and only son. He was a good lad. Every 
body knew and loved him. But now he too is gone. It is 
strange that he should go and she be left behind, but so it is : 
there lies his body on the bier, and she is following him to 
the grave. See her as she goes along in her coarse black 
dress, bent with age and sorrow. Can you blame her for 
weeping, as she looks, for the last time, on that dear form ? 
At least, Jesus did not blame her. He looked at her, and 
He sorrowed with her. He was moved with compassion. 
It is n^t wrong, then, to weep for the dead, but we m^jst 

♦ Eccles. xxxviii. 1 0. 



CARE FOR THE DEAD. 467 

moderate our grief, banish every rebellious thougL t from our 
heart, and mingle resignation with our sorrow. The Office 
which tlie Church sings over the dead is made up in great 
part of joyful psalms and anthems. Aftdr this pattern ought 
to be the sorrow of a Christian family, a sorrow that is not 
violent and noisy, a sorrow that does not pass the bounds of 
decency, a sorrow, I may say, mingled with joy. How dif- 
ferent it is in some families ! You come near a house and 
you hear shrieks the most appalling. Tou go in and find a 
woman abandoning herself to the most noisy and violent 
grief. Her language is little short of blasphemy. She re- 
fuses any comfort. She is weeping over a dead husband. 
Perhaps in life she loved him none too well. Perhaps she 
made his life bitter enough to him, and often prayed that 
some harm might happen to him, and that she might see 
him dead. And now she does see him dead. She will never 
curse him again, and he will never anger her again. He is 
dead ; and now she breaks out into the most frantic grief, 
and alarms the neighborhood. She cries; she calls upon 
God ; she throw^s herself on the corpse. At the funeral her 
conduct is still -more wild and disordered. Now, what is all 
this ? I will not say it is hypocritical, but I say it is brutish* 
It is not to act as a reasonable being, much less as a Chris- 
tian. This is the way with some women. The only time 
they ever show any love to their husbands is when they are 
dead. Let them be: such grief will not last long. Wait 
awhile; before her husband's body has well got cold in the 
ground she will be looking around for another match. 

Do not imitate such unchristian conduct. When Death 
enters your house, do not foiget that you are a Christian. 
Do not indulge your grief. Call to your aid the principles 
of your faith. You are sad and lonely. Well, is it not bet 
ter to feel that this life is a state of exile ? You have lost 
your protector. And has not God promised to protect the 
orphan ? You have lost such a good friend, such a bright 



4:68 CARE FOR THE DEAD. 

example. Well, ouglit you not, then, to rejoice at tis safe 
departure ? Tlie early Christians used to carry flowers to the 
grave, and sing hymns of joy because the toils of a Christian 
warrior were ended, and he had entered into rest. Hear 
what the Church sings : "JSlessed are the dead who die in the 
LordP Will you weep because one you love is taken away 
from sin, from temptation, from the trouble to come ? Will 
you grieve because he has secured for himself the Blissful 
and Eternal Vision of God? But you have no confidence 
that he was good, that he did die in the grace of God. Sup- 
pose you are uncertain on that point, is there any thing bet- 
ter than to go with your doubts and fears before the Holy 
God, and while you offer to Him your trembling prayers for 
the departed, to adore His Providence and say : '^ The Lord 
gave, and the Lord hath taken away : blessed be the Name 
of the Lord."^ Dry up your tears, then, O bereaved Chris, 
tian. "Make mourning for the dead for a day or two,"f 
says the Holy Scripture. That is, do not abandon yourself 
to grief Do not think, because your friend is gone, that 
God is gone, and Christ is gone, and duty gone. Do not call 
on others more than is necessary. Resume your ordinary 
duties as soon as possible — and in these duties you will find 
the relief which God Himself has provided for our sadness, 
and His Grace will accompany you in the performance of 
them. 

Another duty to the dead is to perform scrupulously, as 
far as possible, their last directions. When the patriarch 
Jacob was dying, he called his son Joseph to his side, and 
said to him : " Thou shalt show vie this kindness and truth^ 
not to hury me in Egypt^ hut 1 will sleep with my fathers^ 
and thou shalt take me away out of this land^ and hury 
me in the hurying-place of my ancestor s.^^Jl, It was not 
of itself a very important request; it was, moreover, an 

* Job i. 27. \ Ecc. xxxviii. 18. J Gen. xlvii. 30. 



CARE FOR THE DEAD. 469 

inconvenient one. Yet see how promptly and carefully 
it was complied with. As soon as the days of mourning 
for Jacob were ended, Joseph went to Pharao and said: 
^' My father made me swear to him^ saying^ Tliou shalt 
hury me in my sejpulchre which I have digged for myself 
ill the land of Canaan, So I will go and oury my 
father and return. And Pharao said to him^ Go up and 
hury thy father. And they hurled him in the land of 
Canaan^ in the double cave which Abraham hought for a 
hurying-place^^"^ Would that the same piety were always seen 
among us ! A mother dies : the last wishes that she expresses 
to her children are that they should be true to their holy 
faith and earnest in seeking the salvation of their souls, and 
she sends a message to an absent son, which will not reach 
him in his distant home till long after she is gone, begging 
him to be faithful and regular in his duties as a Christian. 
A father dies, and tells his son of a debt, strictly due in jus- 
tice, but of which there is no record, and where he will tind 
the money to pay it. A poor girl dies, and confides to some 
one, whom she thinks her friend, the little earnings of her 
hard labor, asking that it may be sent to her old mother in 
Ireland. Are these wishes executed? Are these children 
faithful Catholics ? Is that boy, the object of a mother'a 
dying tears and prayers, regular at the sacraments ? Has that 
debt been paid ? Did the sad news of the daughter's death 
go out to the poor mother in the old country, softened with 
the evidence of that daughter's piety and love ? or was the 
money retained and squandered ? What ! are you not afraid 
to add to the sin of irreligion and injustice the crime of 
breaking faith v^dth the dead ? Hear what God says in the 
Holy Scripture : " The voice of thy hrotlier'^s blood crieth to 
Me from the earth ?^\ The dead have got a voice, then — a 
voice that cries to God, that cries for vengeance against those 

♦ Gen. L 4, 5, 13 t C^en. iv. 10. 



470 CARE FOR THE DEAD 

who injure them. Pay, then, thy debts to the dead. Redeem 
the promise thou hast made to the dying. Fulfil thy duties 
as an executor or administrator with fidelity and justice. Be 
exact. It is a dead man thou art dealing with. Do not say, 
he is dead and cannot speak. Hear what the Law of God 
saith : "Thou shalt not speak evil of the deaf nor put a 
stumhling hlock hefore the hlind : hut thou shalt fear the 
Lord thy God^ iecause I a.m the LordP^ Do you under- 
stand ? God hears for those who cannot hear, He speaks for 
those who cannot speak ; and if thoii makest the dead thy 
enemy, thou hast the Living and Eternal God for a Foe. 

Another part of our duty to the dead is to treat their 
bodies with respect, and to give them decent burial. "We 
do this for two reasons : for what they have been, and what 
they are to be. Their bodies have been the casket which 
held their souls, and we love their bodies for what their 
souls have been to God and to us. "We love the eye that 
looked upon us with affection, the mouth that spoke to us 
words of trutli and kindnp-^s, \^e love the ear that listened 
to our sorrows, and the hand that soothed and blessed us. 
We love that body which was the soul's instrument here in 
her works of piety and Christian charity. And we love 
that body for what it shall be. We see it as it will be when 
it springs from the grave on the morning of the Resurrec- 
tion, sparkling with light, beautiful and immortal. And 
this is why we follow the dead to the grave. We go with 
them as we go part of the way home with a cherished guest. 
We go with them in token that the love that united us is 
not severed by death, but that we are still joined to them in 
hope and charity. Oh yes, it is right. Let the body be laid 
out decently; the limbs composed ; the eyes closed for tlieii 
long sleep. And when the time of burial comes, let all the 
ceremonies of the Holy Church lend their aid. Walk slow ; 

* Levit xix. 14. 



CARE FOR THE DEAD. 471 

let the piiest in surplice and stole go before ; liglit the can- 
dles and hold the cross aloft; sing the SAcet and solemn 
chant ; carry the body to the church and lay it before the 
A_ltar of God ; bring incense and holy water, and let there 
be High Mass for the repose of the soul. Fitting ceremo- 
nies ! Beautiful and touching rites ! chosen with a heavenly 
still to comfort the mourner and to honor the dead. But 
alas ! alas ! how do we see this duty to the dead sometimes 
fulfilled ! A Catholic is dead. It is true there are candles 
and holy water, but where are the pious prayers ? The 
neighbors are gathered together, but it is not to pray. The 
glasses and the pipes speak of a different kind of meeting. 
Yes, they have come there, there to that chamber, the Court 
of Death and the Threshold of Eternity, to hold a drunken 
wake. The night wears on with stories^ sometimes even ob- 
scene and filthy, and as liquor does its work, curses and blas- 
phemies mingle with the noisy, senseless cries and yells of 
drunken men. Are these orgies meant to insult the dead ? 
Do these revellers wish to make us believe that their de- 
parted friend was, body and soul, the child of Hell as much 
as they ? So the wake is kept, and now for the funeral. 
The man died early in the week, but of course he must be 
buried on Sunday. Sunday is the worst day of the week for 
a funeral, because it is the day appointed for the public wor- 
ship of God, and it is wrong to draw men away from the 
church on that day without necessity, yet a funeral must by 
all means be on a Sunday. And why ? Because a greater 
crowd can be got together on that day, and the object is to 
have a crowd, and to make people say, such a one had a der 
cent funeral. The family are poor, nevertheless a large 
number of carriages are hired, and filled with a set of people 
who regard the wbole thing as a picnic or excursion. Some 
of them have already " taken a drop," and so little sense of 
religion have they left, that sometimes at the grave itself, 
Eometimes in returning from it, they raise brawls and riota 



472 CARE FOB THE BEAD. 

that bring disgrace and contempt at once on the man they 
have buried and the faith they profess. Do you call this a 
decent funeral ?" I say it is a sin. A sin of pride and 
ostentation. A sin of scandal and excess. A sin of robbery 
and cruelty — of robbery and cruelty toward the poor chil- 
dren from whose hungry mouths and naked backs are taken 
the extravagant expenses of this ambitious display. How 
much better to have a small funeral ! a funeral remarkable 
for nothing but its modesty and simplicity, to which only 
the few are called who knew the dead ,and loved him, who 
follow him to his long home with serious thoughts, like 
thinking men and Christians, remembering that before long 
they must go with him into the grave and lie down beside 
him, and who return home to remember his soul beibre God 
as often as they kneel down to pray. 

And this brings me, in the last place, to speak of the duty 
of praying for the dead. It is a most consoling privilege of 
our holy faith. Death indeed fixes our eternal condition 
irrevocably. " If the tree fall to the south or to the north^ 
in what place soever it shall fall^ there shall it J^."^ But 
the good do not always enter heaven immediately. If the 
sharp process by which God purifies His children on earth has 
not wrought its full effect, it must be carried on for a while 
longer in that hidden receptacle in which faithful souls aw^ait 
their summons to the presence of God. And during this 
period our prayers in their behalf are of great avail. No 
part of our religion has more undeniable proofs of its an- 
tiquity. As far back as the fourth century of the Christian 
era, St. Cyril testifier that it was the custom " to pray for 
those who had departed this life, believing it to be a great 
assistance to those souls for w^hom prayers are offered while 
the Holy and Tremendous Sacrifice is going on."f The 
tombstones of the early Christians attest the same practice , 

'^Eccles, zl 8, f St Cjrnl, Cat, leoc. 7., il 9. 



CARE FOR THE BEAD. 47S 

ahd St. Augustine, speaking not as a doctor, but recording 
a chapter of his own history, lets us into the innermost feel- 
ings of the Church of his day on this subject. Tn his Con- 
fessions he tells us that his mother St. Monica, shortly before 
her death, looked at him and said: "Lay this body any- 
where, be not concerned about that, only I beg of you, that 
wheresoever you be, you make remembrance of me at the 
Lord's Altar." And the saint goes on to tell how he ful- 
filled this request, how after her death the " Sacrifice of our 
Ransom " was oflfered for her, and how fervently he continued 
to pray for her. But his own words are best : " Though my 
mother lived in such a manner that Thy Name is much 
praised in her feith and manners, yet ^ ^ ^ J entreat 
Thee, O God of my heart, for her sins. Hear me, I beseech 
Thee, through that cure of our wounds that hung upon the 
Tree, and that sitting now at Thy Eight Hand maketh in- 
tercession for us. I know that she did mercifully, and from 
her heart forgave to her debtors their trespasses ; do Thou 
likewise forgive to her her debts, if ^he hath also contracted 
any in those many years she livcid after the saving water. 
Forgive them, O Lord, forgive the^. ^ ^ ^ Let no one 
separate her from Thy protecl/o^. Let not the lion and the 
dragon either by force or fr^ud interpose himself. Let her 
rest in peace, together with her husband ; and do Thou in- 
spire Thy servants that a^i many as shall read this may re- 
member at Thy Altar Tby handmaid Monica, with Patricius 
her husband.""^ Are we as faithful to pray for our departed 
friends, and to get prayers said for them ? They wait the 
time of their deliverance with painful longing. They can- 
not hasten it themselves. They cannot merit. Their hands 
are tied. They are at our mercy. The Church indeed prays 
for these in her litanies, her offices, and her Masses, but how 
little do we, their friends and relations, pray for them. The 

♦St., Augustine's, Confessions, book ix., c. 11. 



474 CARE FOR THE DEAD. 

* 

patriarch Joseph, when he foretold to Pharao's butler, his 
fellow prisoner, his speedj restoration to honor, said to him : 
" Only remember me when it shall he well with thee^ and do 
me this kindness to put Pharao in mind to talce me out of 
this prison^'^ But the butler, when things prospered with 
liim, forgot his friend. So we forget our friends in the 
prison of Purgatory. They linger looking for help from us, 
and it comes not. Oh, pray for the dead. Death does not 
sever them from hope, from prayer, or from the power of 
Christ. Did not Martha say to our Lord in reference to her 
brother Lazarus, who was already dead: '' Ihiow that even 
NOW whatsoever thou wilt asJc of God (in his behalf) He 
will give it thee P^^ Yes, Christ's Mercy and Christ's 
Bounty reach even to the regions of the shadow of death. 
Christ has in His hands gifts even for the dead — gifts of 
Consolation, of Kefreshment, of Quiet, and of Eest. Ask 
those gifts for those you love. With the widow of Naim 
carry your dead to the Saviour, let your tears and prayers in 
tbeir behalf meet His Compassionate Ear and Eye, and He 
will speak to the dead : " Young man, I say to thee Arise." 
And the dead shall hear His voice, and shall rise up, not yet 
to the Resurrection of the Body, not yet to be " delivered to 
his Master," but to the company of the Angels, to the spirits 
of the Just, to the home of God, where they shall be " lefore 
the Throne of God^ and serve Him day and night in His 
Temple^ and He that sitteth on the Throne shall dwell over 
them. And they shall not hunger nor thirst any more; 
neither shall thQ sun fall on them^ nor any heat.'^^X 

I have endeavored to-day, my brethren, to speak for the 
dead. They cannot speak for themselves, but they live, and 
feel, and think. And sure I am that, if they could speak, 
their words would not be in substance very different from 
what I have spoken. They would say : '' I want no costly 

♦ CteiL xL 14 f St. John xl 22. | Apoc. vii 16, la . 



SUCCESS THE REWARD OF MERIT. 476 

monument. I want no splendid funeral. Still less do I wish 
that God should be offended on my account. I ask a re- 
membrance mingled with affection and resignation, the rites 
of the Holy Church, a quiet grave, and now and then a fer- 
vent, earnest prayer. And I will not forget you in my prison 
of hope. I will pray for you, and oh ! when the morning 
comes, and my happy soul is called to Heaven, my first in- 
tercession at the throne of God shall be for you, whom I loved 
BO well in life, and who hast not left off thy kindness to the 
dead. 



. SEEMON XXYII. 

SUCCESS THE REWARD OF MERIT. 

(fifteenth SUNDAY ATTEE PENTECOST.) 

•* What things a man shall sow, them also shall he reap." — G-AL. vi. 8. 

To judge by the complaints which we hear continually 
around us, we might conclude that the commonest thing in 
the world is for men to fail in their undertakings. Now, I 
admit that it is a very common thing indeed for men to fail 
ill obtaining what they desire. There are many men who 
have some darling object of ambition which they cannot 
reach. But I do not think it is a very frequent thing for 
men to fail in attaining an end which they steadily aim at, 
and which they take the proper means to attain. I believe 
the rule is the other way. I believe success is the ordinary 
result of well-directed endeavor. I know indeed that the 
Holy Scriptures tell us that '* the race is not to the swift^ nor 
the lattle to the strong^ nor tread to the wise^ nor riches to the 
learned^ nor favor to the skilful : hut time and chance is alV^^ 

* Eccles. ix. 11. 



i76 SUCCESS THE REWAKD OF MERIT. 

But surely all that this means is that the providence of God, 
for its own purposes, sometimes interferes to thwart the best- 
concerted measures, and to crown feeble attempts with un- 
expected success. The race is not always to the swift, but 
ordinarily it is. The battle is not always to the strong, but 
when it is not, it is an exception to the rule. The rule is, 
that success commonly attends the employment of proper 
and judicious means. The experience of life proves that 
this is true. Let us look around and see if it is not so. 

We will look first at the business world. Here at first 
sight a succession of the most surprising changes meets our 
eye. Men that were rich a few years ago are now poor. 
Men that then were poor are now rich. The servant and 
his master have changed places. If you return to the city 
after a few years' absence you will find the same handsome 
houses lining our. avenues, but the occupants of many of 
them will be changed. The same gay carriages roll along 
the street, but there Is always a new set of people riding 
in them, and they that used to ride now go afoot. What 
wonder is it that men have imagined Fortune to be blind- 
fold, and the ups and downs of life the chance revolutions 
of her wheel ? But when we look closer, we see this is not 
the case. For the most part each fall and each success has 
had an adequate history. There has been a rigid bond of 
cause and effect. It is only a metaphor when we say that 
riches have wings. Gold and silver, and real estate, and 
most kinds of personal property, are solid and substantial, 
and do not melt away in a night. So, on the other hand, 
fortunes are not made by accident. The rich man becomes 
rich by aiming at it and striving for it. Fie does not need 
any extraordinary genius perhaps, but he bends his talents, 
such as they are, to the task. lie rises early, he is constant- 
ly at his place of business, he keeps himself informed of 
all its details, he thinks about it. When a favorable open* 
ing comes, he takes aJ.vantage of it. When a reverse comes, 



SUCCESS THE REWARD OF litERlT. 477 

he is not discouraged by it. Other men would be discour- 
aged, but he is not. Perhaps he is in middle life, perhaps 
he has a growing family, but he looks out for a fresh field 
of enterprise, and begins anew to battle with the world, and 
he becomes rich again. His success is owing in part, if 
you will, to favorable circumstances, but largely to his own 
energy and industry. These were the conditions, without 
which no amount of mere external advantages would have 
insured success. 

Again, if we look to the world of Literature and Art, 
we find the same thing. Disappointed authors and artists 
often talk as if they were the victims of the world's stupid- 
ity or malice ; as if men were unable or unwilling to appre- 
ciate them. Now, I know it is said that such things have 
been. There have been men of rare promise, but of a sen- 
sitive nature, who have been crushed by coldness and neg- 
lect, or by the hard and unfair criticism with which their 
first attempts were met. But this is far from being a com. 
mon thing. The world likes to be amused and pleased. It 
is really interested in having something to praise. This 
being so, how is it possible for a man of real merit to remain 
^ong unrecognized? Who can imagine that the great 
masterpieces of painting, or the great poems that have 
come down to us from the past, could have failed to excite 
the admiration of men ? In fact, human judgment, when 
you take its sufi*rages over wide tracts and through the 
lapse of ages, is all but infallible. In a particular place 
it may be warped by passion; in a particular time it may 
conform to an artificial standard ; but give it time and room, 
and it "is sure with unerring accuracy to detect the beautiful 
and true. It is as far as possible, then, from being the case 
that celebrated authors or celebrated artists have become 
great by accident. There maj^ have been favorable circum- 
stances. There were undoubtedly great gifts of nature ; but 
there was also deep study and painful, persevering toil. J 



478 SUCCESS THE REWAKD OF MERIT. 

have been told that the manuscripts of a distinguished Eng 
lish poet show so many erasures that hardly a line remains 
unaltered. The great cathedrals of Europe were the fruit 
of life-long labor. And these are but instances of a ger» 
eral rule. "When we go into the workshops in which some 
of the beautiful articles of merchandise are manufacturedj 
we see a great fire and hear the clank of machinery, and 
men are hurrjaug to and fro, stained with dust and sweat. 
Nov/, something like this has been going on to give birth 
to these beautiful creations in Letters and Arts which have 
delighted the world. There has been a great fire in the fur- 
nace of the brain, and each faculty of the mind has toiled 
to do its part, and there have been many blows with the pen, 
the pencil, or the chisel, until the beautiful conception is 
complete. Such men were successful because they deserved 
it. The approbation of the world did not create their suc- 
cess, it only recognized it. 

I will take one more example of the rule I am illustrat- 
ing — personal character, reputation. I believe, as a general 
rule, it is pretty nearly what we deserve. We reap what we 
sow. People think of us pretty much as we reallj^ are. I 
am not unmindful of the occasional success of hypocrites, 
nor of the instances, happily not very frequent, of innocent 
persons overwhelmed by a load of unjust accusation and cal- 
umny. Again, I know that when people are angry with us 
they sometimes say spiteful things which they do not mean, 
and when they wish to flatter us they say things more com- 
plimentary, but just as false. But notwithstanding all this, I 
aflSrm that the judgments which people who know.us form 
of us are very nearly correct. Indeed it must be so, for we 
cannot disguise ourselves altogether, or for a long time. We 
cannot always wear a mask. An ignorant, ill-bred man may 
go to a tailor's and dress himself out in fashionable clothes, 
Dut the first word ho speaks, and the first movement he 
makes will betray his want of education. So, while we are 



SUCCESS THE REWARD OF MERIT. 479 

trying to pass ourselves off for sometliing else than wliat we 
are, to a keen observer our habitual thoughts and character 
will pierce through and discover our true selves. Even what 
onr enemies say about us, when they say what they think, 
is very likely to be true. Men have no need to invent bad 
things about us. We have all got faults enough. They 
have only to seize these, exaggerate them a little, caricature 
them, separate them from what is good in us, and they will 
make a picture bad enough, but not too bad to be recognized 
as ours. Their description of us is like a photographic like- 
ness. It takes away the bloom from the cheek, and the 
brightness from the eye, and the rich tints from the hair. It 
notes down each imperfection, each frown and wrinkle and 
crookedness of feature, and there it is, a hard, severe, but 
not an untrue likeness. In fact, my brethren, one of the 
last things I would advise any man to attempt would be to 
try to seem something he is not. He is almost sure to be 
unsuccessful. There is a law in the world too strong for him 
— the law of justice and truth, the law that binds together 
actions and their consequences, the law that attaches honor 
to what is good and right, and contempt to what is base and 
false. 

Thus we see on every side illustrations of the rule that our 
success is in proportion to our merit. We sow what we 
reap. Much more is this true in regard to religion. You 
have observed that hitherto I have been obliged to make 
some qualifications, to make some exceptions in each of the 
instances I have brought forward. God may prevent our 
becoming rich, however legitimately we may labor for it, 
because He sees that riches would not be good for us. Or 
He may allow our talents to remain unappreciated, and our 
name to be covered with obloquy, in order to drive us to seek 
His Eternal Praise. But in religion our labors are sure to 
meet with success. There is absolutely no exception. Our 
success will be infallibly in proportion to our endeavors, 



480 SUCCESS THE REWARD OF MERIT. 

neither more or less. You know, my brethren, that a doc- 
trine may be familiar to us, but may not always make the 
same impression on us. We may hear it many times and 
assent to it, but ou some special occasion, it may enter our 
mind with such foice, take such a lively hold of our imagina- 
tion and heart that it seems new to us. This is what we call 
coming home to us, J^ow, I remember an occasion when the 
doctrine I have just stated thus came home to me. It was 
on hearing the words of St. Alphonsus : " With that degree 
of love to God that we possess when we leave this world, and 
no more, will we pass our eternity." Any thing more start- 
ling and awakening I do not remember ever to have heard. 
Not the thought of the pains of hell, or the horrors of sin, 
or the bliss of paradise, ever seemed to me so loud a call for 
action. All of heaven that we shall ever see, we acquire 
here. Perhaps you too, my brethren, have not realized this 
sufficiently. The truth is, I think many men act in regard 
to religion as cbildren and weak-minded persons do in regard 
to the things of this world — they build ^* castles in the air." 
This is a very favorite occupation with some people. They 
spend hours and even days in it. It is a cheap amusement, 
and they who follow it do not usually stint themselves in 
the warmth and color of their pictures. The only difficulty 
is, to fix a limit to their imaginary splendors. They imagine 
themselves very rich, worth, say fifty thousand, or a hundred 
thousand, or five hundred thousand dollars, with beautiful 
houses and furniture, and all the elegancies of life. Or they 
imagine themselves very famous, with a reputation as wide 
as the world, and admiring crowds shouting their praises 
wherever they go. Now something like this, equally silly 
and unsubstantial, passes in the minds of many Christians in 
regard to their hereafter. They imagine that, somehow, 
one of these days, they will find themselves caught up to the 
third heaven, borne by angels to the throne of God, crowned 
with a jewelled crown, seated on a golden throne, with palms 



SUCCESS THE UEWATJl) OJ^ MERIT. 481 

m tKeir hands, to sing forever the song of the redconied. 
They may be now in mortal sin, they may be in the habit of 
mortal sin ; they may be the slaves of passion, drunkards, 
impure, dishonest ; they may be unwilling to renounce the 
dangerous occasions of sin ; or they may not be so bad as 
this : they may belong to that class who have their periodic 
spells of sin and devotion, and are saints or sinners according 
to the time of the year you take them ; or they may belong 
to a still milder type of ungodliness, those who are negligent 
and cold-hearted, with a host of venial sins about them, and 
at intervals, now and then, a mortal sin — no matter : some- 
how or other, by some kind of a contrivance, all — the re- 
lapsed sinner and the habitual sinner, the drunkard, the im- 
pure, the dishonest and the profane, the worldly and tepid, 
the prayerless and presumptuous — all are going to heaven. 
O miserable delusion! Does the Bible teach us this? 
When it speaks of a " way " to heaven, does it not mean 
that all must walk in that way to reach there ? When it 
tells us that " the Judge standeth at the door," does it not 
mean, to judge us by our actions ! Which of the saints was 
ever wafted to heaven in this passive way ? Ah ! the apostle 
tells us, " they were valiant in fight," they fought with the 
wild beasts of their passions, and put to flight the armies of 
hell. 'No : it is an enemy that hath sown among you this Cal- 
vinistic poison— yes, this worse than Calvinistic poison, for 
the Calvinists did but assert that a few elect were saved bv a 
foregone decree, while this practically extends it to every 
one. Do not believe it. " What a man soweth that shall he 
veajp^^ " He that soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap 
corruption^ and^ he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the 
Spirit reap life everlasting ^^ Our days are like a weaver's 
shuttle, and, as they quickly come and go, they weave the 
web of our destiny. Each step we take is a step in one of 



♦ GaL Ti a 



482 SUCCESS THE REWARD OF MERIT. 

the two paths that fill up the whole field of human proba- 
tion. Ask the Psalmist who of us shall see heaven, and he 
will answer you, " Lord, who shall dwell in Thy tabernacle^ 
or who shall rest on Thy holy hill? he that has clean hands 
and a pure heartP^ Ash the Gospel, Who is that servant 
whom his Lord at His coming will approve ? and it answers : 
" Even he whose loins are girt dbout^ and whose lights are 
burning^ as a man that waits for his LordP\ "Would you 
know who, at the end of the world, shall reap a rich har- 
vest ? '' They that sow in tears " — in the holy tears of com- 
punction, of the love of God, and of the desire of heaven — 
" shall reap in joy. And he that now goeth on his way 
weeping and bearing good seed^ shall come again with joy ^ 
and, bring his sheaves with him.^^j^ 

Let us pause a moment before we conclude to try our- 
selves by this doctrme. " All the rivers run into the sea ;" 
so all our lives arc carrying us on to eternity. Should our 
lives be cut ofi" s.t this moment, of what kind of texture 
would they be foand ? '^Tn those days^'' says the prophet, 
" Israel shall come / they shall make haste and seek the Lord 
their God. They shall ash the way to .Sion^ their faces 
thitherwardr^ 

Are our faces, my brethren, turned toward the heavenly 
city? A.re we hastening thither, acknowledging ourselves 
strangers and pilgrims on the earth? These careless con- 
fessions, these heartless prayers, these darling sins, these aim- 
less lives, this tepidity, this indifference and procrastination 
in spiritual things, what do they indicate? We look at the 
sky to judge of tlie weather. We read the newspapers to 
find out the condition of the country. We watch our symp- 
toms to ascertain the state of our health. Ah ! there are in- 
dications far more important, to which we ought to take 



♦ Ps xiv. 1 ; xxiiL 4. + St. Luke xil 35, 36. 

X Ps, cxxv. 5, 6, *l. § Jer. L 4, 5. 



SUCCESS THE REWAKD OF MERIT. 483 

heed. Indications of salvation or reprobatioii, symptoms of 
spiritual health or decay, earnests of heaven or hell, marks 
of Christ or Satan. You remember the story of the old 
monk who was observed to weep as he sat watching the peo- 
ple going into church, and, being asked the reason, said he 
saw a man enter, followed by a black demon, who seemed to 
claim him as his own. So, if we could look into the spiritual 
world, we should see some men attended by angels who have 
come to '^ minister to them as heirs of salvation," while others 
are surrounded by evil spirits, " come to torment them before 
their time." Yes, eternity does not wait for the last day. 
It presses upon us now and here. Each day is a Judgment 
Day. Each evening, as it falls, finds us gathered at Christ's 
right hand, driven to His left, or wavering between the 
two. Why do we not take our place at once, where we 
shall wish to be found at our Saviom^'fcj coming ? It is not 
very long since death took from among us a convert to our 
holy faith,* whose life had been rich in good works, who 
had been a mother to the orphan, and a sister ^o the outcast 
and abandoned ; and a priest, who visited her on her last ill- 
ness, told me that he had said to her : " If God were now to 
raise you up and restore you to health, I would not know 
how to give you any other advice, than to resume your good 
works at that point where sickness compelled you to leave 
them oflF." Beautiful testimony to a holy life ! Cut the 
thread wherever you will, it is all gold. Stop the Christian 
where you will, he is on his way to heaven. Be such a life 
ours. I have said each day is a Judgment Day : let each 
day merit the approval of Christ. Let our life be a constant 
preparation for Eternity, remembering that the only heaven 
the Christian religion offers us, is a heaven that is won by 
our labors here. 

* Mrs. Geo. Ripley. 



i34 THE MAB.^^ THE HIQEEST WORSHIP. 



SERMOjS- XXYin. 

THE MASS THE HIGHEST WORSHIP. 

(TWENTY-FIEST SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST.) 

'* What shall I offer to the Lord that is worthy ? Wherewith shall I kneel 
before the High God?''~MiCH. yi. 6. 

Such is the question wliicli mankinjj have been asking from 
the creation of the world. God is so high^ so great, so good, 
so beantiful. He made us. He created us by His Word, and 
we hang upon His Breath. Hov/ shall W3 worship Him? 
How shall we express the thoughts? of Him that fill our souls ? 
Alas ! the words of the lips, the postures of the body, are all 
inadequate. What shall we do ? Shall we, like Cain, gatber 
the fairest fruits and flowers, and bring the basket before the 
Lord ? Or, like Abel, shall we take the firstlings of our 
flocks, and slay them in His honor ? Shall we dress an altar, 
and pile upon it the smoking victims ? Shall we make our 
children pass through the fire in His Name ? Or, like the 
Indian devotee, shall we throw ourselves under the wheels of 
the car that carries the image of the Divinity ? Such have 
been the ways in which men have tried to express their devo- 
tion to God, but all have been either insufficient or vain. 
Man's thoughts about God have found no fitting expression. 
A fire has burned in his heart which no words can utter. 
Now here, as in so many other ways, Christianity comes to 
our aid, and places within our reach a perfect and all-sufficient 
mode of expressing our devotion, a perfect worship. Do you 
ask me to what I allude ? I answer, to the Sacrifice of the 
Mass. 

Let me remind you what the Sacrifice of the Mass is. We 
Catholics believe that in the Mass Jesus Christ ofiers His real 
Body and Blood, under the species of bread and wine, to 



THE MASS THE HIGHEST WORSHIP. 485 

His Eternal Father, in remembrance of His Death on the 
Cross. Our Lord's Death on the Cross was in itself com- 
plete, and all-snfficient for the purpose for which it was un- 
dergone, and need not, indeed could not, be repeated; but 
His Priestly OflSce was not exhausted by that offering. In 
the language of Scripture : " He ever liveth to maJce interces- 
sion for ns^"^ ■ And, "He is a Priest for ever. ^^-f In what, 
then, does our Lord's Priesthood since His Crucifixion con- 
sist? In heaven, it consists in presenting Himself to His 
Father directly and immediately, to plead the merits of His 
Death and Passion in our behalf ; but on earth it consists in 
representing that Death and Passion in the mystical action 
which we call the Eucharistic Sacrifice or the Mass; thus 
fulfilling the words of the prophet in reference to our Lord : 
'Thou art a Priest forever^ after the order of MelcIiisedecPX 
The offering, then, which takes place in the Mass is the 
very same that was made on Calvary, only it is made in a 
different manner. On the Cross, that offering was made in 
a direct and absolute manner, it was a bloody Sacrifice ; in 
the Mass, it is made in a mystical and commemorative way, 
without blood, without suffering, without death. Therefore, 
in order to understand what takes place in the Mass, we must 
go back to the Cross. "What was it that took place on the 
Cross ? You answer, perhaps, Christ shed His Blood there 
for the remission of sins. True : the Blood of Christ was 
the material cause of our Redemption, but that which gave 
the Blood of Christ its value, that, indeed, which made it a 
Sacrifice, was the interior dispositions of the Soul of Christ. 
The Blood of Christ, taken as a mere material thing, could 
never have effected our reconciliation. What does the Scrip- 
ture say? "Sacrifice and oblation Thou didst not desire. 
Burnt-offerings and sin-offerings Thou didst not reguire. 
Then I said I Lo^ I come to do Thy will God!^^% It was 

* Heb. vii. 25. f Ps. cix. 4. % Ibid. § Ps. xxxix. 7, 8 



ii^Q THE MASS THE HIGHEST WORSHIP. 

by the obedience of Christ, an obedience practised through 
His whole life, but of which His Death and Passion were the 
fullest expression, that Christ, as our elder brother, repaired 
our disobedience. "While our Lord was hanging on the 
Cross, He exercised every Divine virtue which the soul oi 
man can exercise. He loved. He prayed. He praised. He 
gave thanks. He supplicated. He made acts of adoration 
and resignation. In one word. He performed the most per- 
fect act of worship. 

Well, it is just the same in the Mass. It would be the 
greatest mistake to think of the Bodyand Blood of Christ h\ 
the Mass as a sort of dead offering. It is living, and offered 
by the living Christ. Christ is the Priest of the Mass as 
well as the victim. It is Christ who celebrates the Mass, and 
He celebrates it with a warm and living Heart, the same 
Heart with which He worshipped the Father en Mount 
Calvary. It is this that makes the Mass what it is. If it 
were not for this, the Mass would be a carnal sacrifice, in- 
finitely superior, indeed, to those of the Old Law, but of the 
same order. It is this which makes the Sacrifice of the Mass 
a reasonable service, a Spiritual Sacrifice. 

And now you are prepared to understand my assertion that 
the Mass supplies the want of the human soul for an ade- 
quate mode of approaching God. As a creature before its 
Creator, you are oppressed with your own inal)ility to wor- 
ship Him worthily. Do you want a better worship than that 
which His Eternal Son offers? In the Mass, the Son of God 
in His Human Nature worships the Father for us. He 
prays for us ; asks pardon for us ; gives thanks for us ; adores 
for us. As He is perfect man. He expresses every human 
feeling ; as He is perfect God, His utterances have a com- 
plete perfection, an infinite acceptableness. Thus, wlien wo 
offer Mass, we worship the Father with Christ's worsliij^ 
It seems to me that the Catholic can have a certain kind of 
pride in this. He may say, " I know I am weak {vnd as 



THE MASS THE HIGHEST WORSHIP. 487 

nothing before God, yet I possess a treasure tliat is worthy 
to offer Him, I liave a prayer to 'present to Him all-perfecl 
and all-powerful, the prayer of His Only-Begotten Son in 
whom He is well pleased." 

Nor is this all. Christ worships the Father for us in the 
Mass, not to excuse us from worshipping, but to help us to 
worship. You remember how, the night before our Saviour 
died, He took with Him Peter and James and John, and 
going into the garden of Gethsemane, He said to them, 
" Tarry ye here, while I go and pray yonder." And hoAv, 
being removed from them about a stone's cast. He began to 
pray very earnestly, so that He was in an agony, and the 
drops of Hood fell from His body to the ground ; and how 
He went to them from time to time to urge them to watch 
and pray along with Him. The weight of all. human 
Borrows was then upon His soul. He was presenting the 
necessities of the whole human race to His Father, but He 
would have the apostles, weary as they were, borne down 
by suffering and fatigue, to join their feeble prayers with 
His. So, in the Holy Mass, He is withdrawn from us a litttle 
.distance, making intercessions for us with groanings which 
cannot be uttered, and He would have us kneel about the 
temple aisles, adding our poor prayers to His. Our prayers, 
by being united to His, obtain not only a higher acceptance, 
but a higher significance. Our obscure aspirations He inter- 
prets. What we know, not how to ask for, or even to think 
of, He supplies. Wliat we ask for in broken accents. He 
puts into glowing words. What we ask for in error and 
ignorance. He deciphers in wisdom and love. And thus our 
prayers, as they pass through His Heart, become transfigured 
and divine. 

Oh, what a gift is the Holy Mass ! How full an utter- 
ance has Humanity found therein for all its woes,- its 
aspirations, its hopes, its affections ! How completely is the 
distance bridged over that separated the creature and the 



483 THE MASS THE HIGHEST WORSHIP. 

Creator ! It was to the Mass that our Lord alluded in His 
conyersation with the woman of Samaria. You remember 
the incident. The Samaritans were a schismatical sect. 
They had separated from the Jews, had built a temple on 
Mount Gerazin, in opposition to the temple of the Jews at 
Jerusalem, and there they offered sacrifices. Now, this 
Samaritan woman, when our Lord had entered into conyersa- 
tion with her, put to Him the question which was then in 
controyersy. Which was the right temple? "Which was 
the acceptable sacrifice ? Which was the place where men 
ought to worship — Mount Gerazin,' or Mount Sion ? And 
how does our Lord answer her? " Wo7nan^ helieve Me^ the 
hour Cometh^ when ye shall neither in this mountain nor yet 
in Jerusalem adore the Father. The hour cometh and now 
iSy when the true worshipper shall worship the Father in 
Spirit and in Truth P^ The time is coming when a new 
Sacrifice, a new worship, shall be established, a worship of 
Spirit and Truth, a worship that shall put to rest the con- 
troyersy between Samaria and Jerusalem, for it shall be 
offered in eyery place. What is that sacrifice ? What is 
that worship ? The prophet had foretold it long before : 
" From the rising of the sun unto the going down thereof^ My 
Isfame is great among the Gentiles^ and in every place 
THERE IS SACRIFICE, and there is offered to My Name a clean 
OBLATION. "t And the whole tradition of the Christian 
Church, from the yery first, tells us that this clean ohlatlon 
is no other than the Eucharistic Sacrifice, a worship of 
" Truth," if the presence of Christ can make it true ; and 
of " Spirit," if the Heart of Christ can make it spiritual; a 
worship that meets all man's wants and befits all God's 
attributes. 

With this conception of the Mass in your minds, you see 
at once the explanation of some of the ceremonies attending 

♦ St. John iv. 22, 23. f ^al. ii. 11. 



THE MASS THE HIGHEST WOilSHIP. 489 

its celebration which seem to Protestants strange and sense- 
less. A Protestant enters a Catholic Church during the time 
of Mass. The Priest is at the Altar. You cannot hear what 
he says, he speaks so low and rapidly ; and perhaps it would 
do you no good if you could, for he speaks in Latin ; and you 
say : " What mummery !" " What superstition !" " What an 
unmeaning service !" But stop awhile. Take our view of 
the Mass, and see if our custom is so strange. We believe 
that there is an invisible Priest at the Mass, Christ, the Son 
of the Living God, Who offers Himself to His Father for us. 
You know it is related in the Old Testament, that on one 
day in the year the Jewish High-Priest used to enter into the 
Holy of Holies, which was separated from the temple by a 
veil, and there in secrecy perform the rites of expiation, 
while the people prayed in silence without. So it is at the 
Mass. You see the Priest lift up the Host before the people. 
Well, that is the white veil that hides the Holy of Holies from 
our eyes. Within, our Lord and Saviour mediates with the 
Father in our behalf. Oh, be still ! Speak low ! Let not 
the priest at the altar raise his voice, lest lie drown the whis- 
pers from that inner shrine. What need for me to know the 
very words the priest is using ? I know what he is doing. I 
know that this is the hour of grace. Earth has disappeared 
from me. Heaven is open before me. I am in the presence 
of God, and I am praying to Him in my own words, and 
after my own fashion. I am pouring out my joys before Him, 
or opening to Him the plague of my own heart. 

Yes, the Catholic Church has solved the problem of wor- 
ship. She has a service which unites all the necessary 
conditions for the public worship of God — a common service, 
in which all can join ; an external service, which takes place 
before our eyes, which is celebrated with offerings which we 
ourselves supply, and by a Priest taken from among ourselves ; 
an attractive service; and yet a service perfectly spiritual. 
The Catholic does not come to church to hear a man pour 

21* 



490 THE MASS THE HIGH^EST WOESHIP. 

forth an exkmiyore prayer, and be forced to follow liim through 
all the moods and feelings of his own mind ; nor to join io a 
get form of prayer, which, however beautiful and well ar- 
ranged, must, from the very nature of the case, fail to express 
the varying wants and feelings of the different members of 
the congregation ; but he comes to join, after his own fashion, 
in Christ's own prayer. At the Catholic Altar there is the 
most complete liberty, the greatest variety, combined with 
the most perfect nnity. 

Come, then, children, come to Ma^s, and bring your merry 
hearts with you. Come, you that are young and happy, and 
rejoice before the Lord. Come, you that are old and weary, 
and tell your loneliness to God. Come, you that are sorely 
tempted, and ask the help of Heaven. Come, you that have 
Binned, and weep between the porch and the altar. Come, 
you that are bereaved, and pour out here your tears. Come, 
you that are sick, or anxious, or unhappy, and complain to 
God. Come, you that are prosperous and successful, and give 
thanks. Christ will sympathize with you. He will rejoice 
with you, and He will mourn with you. He will gather up 
your prayers. He will join to them His own Almighty sup- 
plications, and that concert of prayer shall enter heaven, 
louder than the music of angelic choirs, sweeter than the 
voice of those who sing the song of Moses and the Lamb, more 
piercing than the cry of the living creatures who rest not day 
or night, and more powerful and prevailing than the inter- 
cession of the Blessed Virgin and all the saints of Paradise 
together. The Mass a formalism ! The Mass an unmeaning 
service ! Why, it is the most beautiful, the most spiritual, 
the most sublime, the most satisfying worship which the heart 
of man can even conceive. 

And here, too, in this idea of the Mass, we have the an- 
Bwer to another perplexity of Protestants. They cannot 
imderstand why we make such a point of attending Mass. 
They see us go to Mass in all weathers. They see us so par 



THE MASS THE HIGHEST WORSHIP. 491 

ticular not to be late at Mass. They see us on Sunday, not 
sauntering leisurely, as if we were going to a lecture-room, 
but pressing on with a certain eagerness, as if we had some 
great business in hand; and they ask what it all means. Is 
it not superstition ? Do we not, like the Pharisees, give an 
undue value to outward observances ? May we not worship 
God at home just as well ? Ah! if it were really only an 
outward observance. But there is just the difference. There 
stands one among us whom you know not. We believe that 
the Saviour is with us, and you do not. We believe this with 
a certain, simple faith. Come to our churches, and look at 
our people, the poorest and most ignorant, and see if we do 
not. It is written on their faces. They may not know how 
to express themselves, but this is in their" hearts. You think 
we come to Mass because the Church is so strict in requiring 
us to do so ; but the true state of the case is that the law of 
the Church is so strict because Christ is present in the Mass, 
You think it is the pomp and glitter of our altars that draws 
the crowd. Little you know of human nature if you think it 
can long be lield by such things alone. ]S"o, we adorn our 
altars because we believe Christ is present. This is our faith. 
It is no new thing with us. It is as old as Christianity.- It 
was the comfort of the Christians in the catacombs. It was 
the glory of St. Basil and St. Ambrose and St. Augustine. 
It was the meaning of all the glory and magnificence of the 
Middle Ages. And it is our stay and support in this nine- 
teenth century of knowledge, labor, and disquiet. Yes, strip 
our altars, leave us only the Corn and the Vine, and a Rock 
for oiu* altar, and we will worship with posture as lowly and 
hearts as loving as in the grandest cathedral. Let persecution 
rise 5 let us be driven from our churches ; we will say Mass in 
the woods and caverns, as the early Christians did. We 
know that God is everywhere. We know that Nature is His 
Temple, wherein pure hearts can find Him and adore Him ; 
but we know that it is in the Holy Mass alone tl^at He offera 



i92 THE MASS THE HIGHEST WORSHIP. 

Himself to His Fatlier as " the Lamb that was slain." How 
can we forego that sweet and solemn action ? How can we 
deprive ourselves of that heavenly consolation ! The spar- 
TOW hath found her an house and the turtle a nest where she 
may lay her youncj^ even thy altars^ Lord of Ilosts^ my 
King and my God ! Man's heart has found a home and rest- 
ing-place in this vale of tears. To us the altar is the vesti- 
bule of heaven, and the Host its open door. 

Yes, and to us the words of the prophet, when he calls the 
veign of Antichrist " the ahomination of desolation ^^'^ because 
the Daily Sacrifice shall then be taken away, has a peculiar fit- 
ness. It is our delight now to think that, as the sun in its 
course brings daylight to each successive spot on earth, it ever 
finds some priest girding himself to go up to the Holy Altar ; 
that thus the earth is belted, from the rising of the sun unto 
the. going down of the same, with a chain of Masses ; that as 
the din of the world commences each day, the groan of the 
oppressed, the cry of the fearful and troubled, the boast of 
sin and pride, the wail of sorrow — the voice of Christ ascends 
at the same time to heaven, supplicating for pardon and 
peace. But oh ! when there shall be no Mass any more, 
when the sun shall rise only to show that the altar has been 
torn down, the priests banished, the lights put out ; that will 
be a day of calamity, of darkness and sorrow, llien the 
beasts will groan, and the cattle low. Then will men's hearts 
wither for fear. Then will the heavens overhead be brass, 
and the earth under foot iron, because the corn has languished, 
the vine no longer yields its fruit. The tie between earth 
and heaven is broken ; sacrifice and lihation are cut off from 
the House of God, 

Such be our thoughts, my dear brethren, about the Holy 
Mass. I have alluded to the efforts which mankind have 
made to offer a worthy offering to God, sometimes to the 
extent, even, of sacrificing their own lives and their children. 
While we abhor these excesses, let us not forget the earnest- 



THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 493 

ness wWcJi inspired their misguided devotion. And we, to 
wliom God has given a perfect worship, a worship not cruel, 
but beautiful, inviting, consoling, satisfying, shall we be less 
devout in offering it ? 'No ! come to Mass, and come to pray. 
"When the Lord drew near to Elias on the mount, the prophet 
wrapped his face in his mantle ; so when we come to Mass, 
let us wrap our souls in a holy recollection of spirit. Eemem- 
ber what is going on. JSTow pray ; now praise ; now ask for- 
giveness; now rest before God in quiet love. So will the 
Mass be a marvellous comfort and refreshment to you. You 
know the smell of the incense lingers about the sacred vest- 
ments worn at the altar long after the service is over ; so 
your souls shall carry away with them as you leave the 
church a celestial fragrance, a breath of the odors of Paradise, 
the token that you have received a blessing from Him whose 
" fingers drop with sweet-smelling myrrh." 



SEKMON XXIX. 

THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 

(last SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST.) 

"All flesh is grass, and all the glory thereof as the flower of the field. The 
grass is withered and the flower is fallen." — Isaias xl. 6, 1. 

It is but a few weeks since yon were told that the natural 
world has lessons of deep spiritual importance to teach us. 
Our Lord, as we see in the Gospel, sometimes drew the text 
of His discourse from the flowers of the field, sometimes from 
the birds of the air ; and it must be evident to any reflecting 
mind that this was not done as a mere exercise of fancy on 
His part, but was the Divine Interpretation of these messages 
of love which from the beginning He had commissioned Na- 
ture to tell us. Natm'c, then, is really intended by God to 



494 THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 

be our Teacher. It is my purpose this morning, to direct 
yoTir thoughts to one part of its teachmg — that is, the spiiit- 
ual instruction suggested to us by the season of Autumn. 

Here, in the Church, where we have always the same 
doctrines, and the same worship, we might forget how all 
things without are full of change and decay, were it not that 
the Chui'ch uses N"ature as a handmaid, and calls her within 
the sanctuary to adorn the Altar with her gifts. We miss to- 
day the flowers that have been so plentiful all summer, and 
this tells us what is going on without. ^ The crown of flowers 
which the Spring brought forth to grace our Easter festival, 
and which were the truest type of the Resurrection, which 
made that feast so joyful, have all perished. The rose of 
Whitsuntide, the floral wealth of Corpus Christi, the wliite 
lily of midsummer, have all gone their way. " The glory of 
Lebanon is departed ; the beauty of Carmel and Sharon." In 
the garden and the field, where so lately there was every kind 
of fruit and flower that is pleasant to the eye and sweet to the 
smell or taste — there are now but a few dried leaves, and the 
skeletons of trees and shrubs shaking and rattling in the 
wind. Nothing green is left except "the fir-tree and the 
box-tree and the pine-tree together," patiently enduring cold 
and snow so as to be on hand when the Holy Night comes 
round, and the Heavenly Babe is born, to make his humble 
home glad and beautiful with their green wreaths and 
branches. The birds that peopled the woods and made them 
merry with their music have gone south, leaving their sum- 
mer home silent and desolate. The days are short. Clouds 
flit across the sky. The air is strong and keen, and men shut 
it out and make all warm and snug within. Yes, the little 
time that has elapsed, since we began to number our Sundays 
fi^om Easter, has been a full cycle of being in the vegetable 
world. Spring has given place to summer, and summer to 
autumn. Seed-time and harvest have followed each other, 



THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 495 

and now the dreary winter has commenced. " The grass is 
withered and the flower is fallen." 

And what does all this mean to us ? I am sure all of you 
understand it well. This season speaks to us in tones that 
reach every human heart. It tells us that we are dying. 
It is strange how slow we are to realize this. I look around 
this church, and I see many dressed in the dark garments that 
tell they are mourning for the dead. In what house, indeed, 
is the family unbroken ? Where is there not a vacant seat at 
the table ? "Who of us has not lost a friend ? And yet we 
rarely think that we too are soon to follow them. N^ow, God 
wishes us to think of this. He tells us of it by our reason, 
He tells us of it by our vacant hearths and homes ; He tells 
us of it by sermons, and by His word, but, not content with 
this. He makes the natural world, heir with us of the sen- 
tence of mortality, a monitor to us of this great truth. 
" Day unto day uttereth sjoeeeh of it^ and night unto night 
sheweth knowledge ofit?'^^ But at certain seasons He tells us- 
of it more distinctly and in a greater variety of ways. Would 
you know what the Autumn teaches ? Hear the Holy Ghost. 
Himself interpret it : " The voice said^ cry ; and I said^ 
what shall I cry? All Flesh is grass and all the glory there- 
of as the flower of the field: the grass is withered and the 
flower isfaTlenP\ " In the morning man shall grow up like 
the grass / in the evening he shall fall^ grow dry and wither ^'^X 
" Man horn of a looman^ livethfor a short time^ and is filled 
with many miseries. He cometh forth as a fiower and is 
destroyed^ hefleeth as a shadow and never continuethin the 
same stateP% Gh, do not require God always to speak to you 
in a voice of thunder : listen to Him when He speaks gently. 
Open your eyes and ears, and receive instruction from the 
Bights and sounds of Nature. We are dying : the sighing 
winds teU us so. We are dying : the falling leaf tells us 

* Ps xviii 3. f Isaias xl. 6, T. :f Ps. Ixxxix. 6. § Job xiv. 1, 2. 



496 THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 

how Death will soon have jpower over us as a leaf carried 
away hy tJie wind^ and pursue us as a dry straw ^J'^ "We are 
dying : the harvest-man is discharged, so ^^ our days are like 
the days of an hireling^ and the end of labor draweth nigh^^ 
We are d}dng : the short days tell ns that to us " the-sun and 
the light andj the moon and the stars will soon he darltened^X 
We are dying : the earth hath already wrapped itself in its 
winding-sheet of snow, to foretell to ns the time wlien, stiff 
and cold, we shall be dressed for the grave. We are all d}"- 
ing. Are yon yonng ? Well, the young are dying. Life is 
but a lingering death. As soon as %ce were horn^ we hegan to 
draw to our end. Every path in life leads straight to the 
grave. Are you old? are you sick? Ah! then, there is a 
voice within you which repeats the warning from without. 
Ton are not as strong and well as you once were. Time was 
you felt within you a fount of health and strength that defied 
danger and despised precaution. What a strange, fierce joy 
it was for you to struggle with the buffetings of the wintry 
blast ! But, somehow, you know not how, either it was an 
accident or an imprudence, there came over you now and then 
a pain, a cough, a strange weariness, and the raw wind steals 
away from your cheek the bloom which once it imparted, 
and sends a chill to your heart. What does it mean ? I will 
tell you. It is the shadow of mortality. You are dying. 
Men do not realize this. They do not realize it of them- 
selves, and they do not realize it of others. Death is always 
a surprise and an accident. It is one of the things in the 
world on which men do not count. 

It is something which has nothing to do with us until the 
doctor stands over us, and says we have but a few days or a 
few hours to live. We speak of the dead with pity, as if 
they were the victims of some unlucky chance which we had 
escaped. This ought not to be so. " It is appointed for man 

♦ Job xiii. 25. f Job vii. 1. % Eccles. xii. 2. 



THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 497 

once to die.''^^ Because we are living, therefore we must die. 
Adam in Paradise might have escaped death if he would, 
but since Adam's oin and our loss of integrity, the sentence 
of death has passed upon all. There is no reflection which a 
man can make more certainly true than this : I must die* 
The time is fixed. There shall come to me a day that knows 
no setting, a night that knows no dawn. The lights shall be 
lit in the church ; the pall spread over the bier ; the priest 
singing Mass at the altar. My body shall lie imder that pall, 
and my name be mentioned in that Mass. From the church 
my body shall be carried to the grave, and my soul be happy 
or miserable according to the deeds it hath done on eai1;h. I 
do not know when I shall die. Youth is no protection against 
death. Health is no protection against death. I do not know 
where I shall die. ITo corner of the earth can hide me from 
His summons. I do not know how I shall die, whether at 
home, among my friends, with the rites of the Church, with 
my reason, with a quiet mind — or abroad, or suddenly, or 
without the last sacraments, or with a heavy load of sin on 
my soul, or in a state of insensibility. All these things are 
imcertain; this only is certain, that I must die — that I must 
die, that my turn shall come ; and others shall speak of me as 
I speak now of those already dead. 

But some of you may say, why tell us this ? Life is short 
at the best, why vex ourselves with thinking of that which 
we cannot prevent. We have got many projects in hand, 
many pleasures in prospect, and we do not want to paralyze 
our energies and sadden our days by meditating always on 
death. No, my brethren, I do not ask you to think of death 
in order to paralyze your energies, but to direct them aright ; 
not to sadden your days, but to make them calm and tranquil. 
I know that a celebrated modern writer has made it a matter 
of reproach against Christianity that it sends men to learn 

♦ Heb. ix. 2t. 



498 THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 

the solemn lessons of the grave. But surely this reproach is 
imreasonable. It cannot be denied that men do die. ITie 
earth has already many times seen an entire generation of 
her inhabitants pass away. There are many more sleeping 
An the ground than live on its surface. Now, if this be so, 
if death is an inevitable fact in our history, and a fact on 
which much depends — if this life is not all, but after this life 
there is an Eternity dependent on our conduct here, it is 
plain that reason requires us to think of death, and he is fool- 
ish who forgets it. Besides, the thougJit of death is enjoined 
upon us by the Almighty, as a sure means of salvation : " In 
all thy worhs rememher thy last end^ and thou shalt never 
sin.^^'^ And I will say more. The thought of death really 
contributes to our comfort, because- it is the only way of get- 
ting rid of the fear of death. Suppose you do refuse to listen 
to the warnings which Death suggests, are you therefore free 
from anxiety ? Is there no trouble in your conscience ? Is 
there nothing frightful to you in a sleepless night, or a sick- 
bed ? would you hear with equanimity that you had a hope- 
less disease ? ITo, it is the coward that will not think of death, 
who " all his life through fear of death is svhject to slavery^'* 
Act like a man. Face this King of Terrors, and you disarm 
him. Hi?, countenance is stern, but his words are kind 
and friendly. Listen to him, and you will find that he can 
relax his grim features and smile upon you ; and there is 
nothing can give you such comfort, as for death to come to 
you with a smiling face. The sting of death is sin : be care- 
ful to avoid sin, and then at his coming you can exclaim : 
" O death, where is thy victory ! O death, where is thy 
sting !" t 

Oh, it is a shame and a disgrace that Christians think so 
little about death. Why, death is our best friend and our 
wisest counsellor. A London anatomist once placed over his 

♦ EQcles, vii, 36. f I. Cpr. xy. 55. 



fflE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 499 

dissecting-rooms tMs inscription : " Hie mors juvat succur- 
rere vitm f'^ "Here deatli helps to succor life." Tou see 
the meaning. The physician takes a dead body and studies 
it, spends days and nights over it, repulsive as it is, in order 
to learn the secrets of the living frame and how to minister 
to its complaints. So let the Christian look at death and 
learn from it how to keep his soul in health, how to secure 
its everlasting life. It is nothing very terrible that death 
has to tell us now. The time will come, if we refuse to hear 
him now, when his words will be terrible ; but now, though 
solemn, though calculated to make us serious and thoughtful, 
they need not make us gloomy. He says, you have a great 
work to do, and little time to do it in — time enough, but 
none to spare. He says to the young : Look at me, look 
into my face, and see the value of beauty and of pleasure . 
He says to the proud : Come and see how kings and beggars 
lie side by side in my dominion. He says to the covetous: 
Come, open a grave, and see what a man carries away with 
him when he dies. And he says to all, you must die alone ; 
what you are, what yoi* have made yourself, so must you ap- 
pear before God, to receive a just and final sentence. This is 
the sermon of Death, that he has been preaching from the 
beginning. It never grows old. It has converted more sin- 
ners than all missionaries and preachers by any other means. 
It has made more saints, induced more to embrace a religious 
life, sent more souls to heaven than any other sermon ever 
did. Oh ! Death is a great preacher. There is no answer 
to his reasonings, no escape from his appeal. He speaks not, 
but his silence is eloquent. He makes no gestures, but that 
motionless arm of his is more expressive than the most im- 
passioned action. There is a story told of a certain man 
named Guerricus, which shows how powerfully death preach- 
es. This man was a Christian, but one who loved the world 
too well, and one evening he strayed into a church when 
the monks were singing matins. The hour, the* place, all in 



500 THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 

vited to reflection, and as lie stood and listened, one of ihe 
monks came forth, and in a lond, clear voice sang the lessoc 
ol the day. It was as follows : " And all the time that Adan 
lived^ came to nine hundred and thirty years ^ and he died 
And Seth lived after he hegat Enos eight hundred and seven 
yearns J and all th^. years of Seth were nine hundred and twelve 
years^ and he died. And Enos hegat Cainan. And all the 
years of Enos were nine hundred and five years^ and he died. 
And all the days of Cainan were nine hundred and ten 
years^ and he died?^"^ So it came at the end of every period, 
the same melancholy cadence, Et mortuus est^ "and he 
died." The words rang in the ear of Guerricus. " So then," 
said he, " that is the end of all. The longest life ends with 
that record — and he died. So it will one day be said of me." 
And with this reflection on his mind, he went away and dis- 
tributed his wealth to the poor, commenced a life of mortifl 
cation and prayer, and began in good earnest to prepare to 
die. Happy those who after this example are led by the 
thought of death to enter on a really devout life ! They will 
not be confounded in the evil day. They will not be afraid 
of any evil tidings. When the great prophet Elias was 
about to leave this world, the sons of the prophets came to 
tell Eliseus of it as a piece of afilicting news, saying : " Dost 
thou 'know that the Lordj will take away thy master from thee 
to-day .^"t And he said : " Yes^ I know it^ hold your peace P 
So when the good Christian's last hour comes on, and sorrow- 
ing friends approach his bed to break it to him that he is dy- 
ing, he can say, Yes, I know it. It is no news to me. I have 
long known it. I ha^ve expected it. Dying^ you say. " So 
then," I can exclaim with St. Teresa, " the hour is come !" the 
hour I have so long been waiting for, the hour I have labored 
for, the hour that is to end my exile here, and ui^te me for 
ever to my Saviour and my God ! 

* Gen, V. 6. f I. Kings ii. 3. 



THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 501 

I tried just now to describe to you the desolation that is 
now spread over the face of Nature ; but a few weeks ago the 
scene was quite different. The fields were laden with a 
golden harvest, and the husbandman w^as gathering it in with 
joy. He knew that winter was coming, and he prepared for 
it. In the morning he sowed his seed, and in the evening he 
withheld not his hand. He labored in the chill, uncertain 
spring, and in the hot days of summer, and when autumn 
came, he gathered his fruits into the garner, safe from the 
frosts of winter. So he who thinks of death makes the most 
of the spring-time of life, takes care in his youth to plant in 
his heart the seeds of piety, and to tear up the weeds of vice, 
guards his soul in the storms of temptation, labors untiringly 
through the heat and burden of life, and, when his last hour 
arrives, lies down in peace, confident that he shall enter into 
those fruits of righteousness which, by patient continuance in 
well-doing, he has laid up for the time to come. 

I commend these thoughts to you all, my brethren : but 
there are some among you to whom I commend them espe- 
cially, those, namely, who are to die soon. When the cap- 
tains of Israel were assembled together at Ramoth-Galaad, 
the messenger of Eliseus appeared in their midst and said, 
''^ I have a message to thee^ prince. '^'^ And they ansv^ered, 
" To which one of us all T^'^ So 1 feel this morning as if I 
had a message to some of you in particular, though I do not 
know who they are. The message is that which Jeremias 
the prophet sent to Hananias : " Thus saith the Lord^ this 
year shalt thou die.^^f 

How many of those who were alive a year ago are now 
dead ! How many of those who listen to me now will be 
dead before another year rolls round ! Now, to these persons 
it is a question of the most pressing urgency, " Am I now as 
I would wish to be when I die ?" When Death comes, it will 

♦ IV. Kings ix. 5. \ Jer. xxviii. 16 



502 THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 

not wait because you are laden with sins or unprepared. It 
will not wait for you to send for the priest or finisli your 
confession, or to receive absolution. At the moment that 
sentence is given, you must yield up your soul, in whatever 
state it is. Now, then, is the time to put your house in order. 
Perhaps you are not a Catholic. You are lingering outside 
the Church, with misgivings in your heart that only in her 
fold you can secure your salvation. Will those misgivings 
help you to die easily ? Will those ingenious and far-fetched 
arguments, by which you fortify yourself against conviction 
now, give tliat peace to your soul, which the broad, strong, 
plain evidence of the Faith imparts to the soul of a Catholic ? 
Would you not like, as you go out of this world, to step on 
the firm rock of Peter ? To go hence " with the sign of 
faith," with the blessing of the Mother of Saints upon you, 
and the grace of her sacraments within your heart ? 

Or, you are a Catholic, but a careless one. You have the 
load of years of sin on your conscience. When you come to 
die, will you not wish to have those sins blotted out ? Will 
you then forego as you do now those absolving words which 
our Lord has promised to ratify in heaven ? Will you trust 
all to the uncertain chance of confession in that hour^ or to a 
doubtful contrition ? 

Or it is a cloud of venial sins — a veil of worldliness, and 
selfishness, and unfaithfulness, of omissions and neglects, that 
darkens your soul. Do you wish to die. with that veil not 
taken away ? Do you wish to go before God as careless and 
as sensual as you are now^ ? Arc you spending your time as 
you would wish to spend the last year of your life ? Oh ! be 
diligent. The night cometh. Work while it is day. " \V7iat- 
soever thy hand is ctble to do^ do it earnestly / for neither 
worh^ nor reason^ nor wisdom^ nor knowledge shall he in the 
land of the dead whither thou art hastening T"^ Receive in- 

♦ Eccles. ix..lO. 



THE LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 503 

Btruction. Be not of the number of those who have foolishly 
tlirown away their salvation. 

There are stories of men's passing through grave-yards on 
dark and stormy nights, and hearing dismal sounds, as of a 
restless and unhappy soul complaining of its torments. You 
say it is the wind. Suppose it is : may not the wind be 
speaking for the dead ? Is not the earth for the elect ? Does 
not Nature sympathize with man ? Does not every crea- 
ture groan and travail for our redemption ?^ Did not the 
prophet call upon the fir-trees and the oaks to " howl " for 
the destruction of Jerusalem! f Did not the sun hide its 
face at the crucifixon of our Lord, and the earth tremble un- 
der His Cross? And when He comes to judgment will not 
the stars fall from the sky and the heavens be parted as a 
scroll ? Is not, then, that instinct of humanity right which 
has understood the fearful sounds and sights of Nature as 
Divine utterances — pictures and voices of a woe that is un- 
speakable and indescribable. There is a bird in South Amer- 
ica with a cry so melancholy that it is called The Lost Soul. 
And Nature, that Sj)eaks there to the hearts of men by that 
dismal cry, tells the same story to us by the storm at sea, and 
the moaning and sighing and shrieking of the wind on a 
winter^s night. What aileth thee, O sea, tossed and driven 
with the waves ? Let the Scriptures answer. ''' The voice 
of the Lord is upon the waters^ the God of inojesiy hath 
thundered^ the Lord is upon many %oatersr% Why does the 
winter come upon us with desolation and storm ? Let the 
Holy Scripture answer again : "The vineyard is confounded^ 
and the fig-tree hath languished. The pomegranate-tree^ and 
the palm-tree^ and the apple-tree^ and all the trees of the field 
shalt wither hecause joy is withdrawn from the children of 
men?^ % Yes, there are sad things in nature because there 
ift death and reprobation among men. The days grow short 

♦ Rom. ix. 22. f Zach. xi. 2. \ Ps, xanriil 3. § Joel L 12. 



504 



TH^ LESSONS OF AUTUMN. 



out of sorrow for the lost children of God, and the wintry 
heavens **are black with clouds, and winds, and rain,'' be- 
cause to many ^^ the harvest is past ^ the summer is ended ^ and 
they are not saved.' "^ * 

* Ter. viii, 20, 




CATALOGUE OF THS PUBLICATIONS 



OF THE 



CATHOLIC BOOK EXCHANGE, 

120 West 6oth Street, New York. 



Thk CathoIvIC Book Exchange is a Mis- 
sionary Institution, organized and controlled 
by the Paulist Fathers, for the dissemination 
of Catholic literature. Its object is to dis- 
tribute as wide- spread as possible Books, Pam- 
phlets, and Leaflets at a cost which provides 
simply for current expenses. We have no in- 
terest on investment, no expensive rental, or 
no salaries for high-priced officials to pay. 
Our purpose is to further the Apostolate of the 
Press by the sale of printed truth and to put 
the price of Catholic books within reach of 
all. 

The prices quoted in this Catalogue are the 
figures at which the book sells at retail. 

To the Trade and any one buying in quanti- 
ties large discounts are offered. 

Special discounts on orders accompanied by 
CASH. 

We prefer to do a Cash business. 



THE APOSTOLATE OF THE PRESS. 

The American people are a reading people and a thinking 
people. Not always and uniformly deep in their reading and 
thinking, to be sure ; but still it would be folly to ignore in them 
a certain predisposition to devour printed matter and to discuss 
problems social, political, and religious. Therefore we must not 
neglect to put before them, in the form to which they take so 
kindly, the reasons why they ought to be Catholics. Much has 
been said — you remember how strongly Father Hecker urged it — 
about the Apostolate of the Press, and much more ought to be 
said and done to develop and apply the principles which will be 
plain to any one who thinks a moment. 

JEirst Need is to Manufacture the Bullets, 

There must first be a supply of the right sort of literature — 
an abundant supply, at the lowest possible price. Every means 
must be adopted forgetting this literature into circulation, so that 
it will be easy for any one to secure, for the benefit of an interested 
non-Catholic friend, a full and sufficient explanation of any par- 
ticular point in question. In a word, the country should be flood- 
ed with Catholic literature, so that it will be difficult for any one 
to escape it altogether. But this point need not be dwelt on. 
We know what a good work is being accomplished along this line 
by The Catholic Book Exchange (120 West 60th Street, New 
York) and other agencies of a similar nature in other parts of the 
country. Moreover it is, although the first, not the greatest need. 
It is necessary that there should be this supply of ammunition; it 
is still more necessary that there should be soldiers to use it. 

Second Need is to get livery One to F'ire Them, 

What is mainly needed is the active co-operation of the large 
body of intelligent Catholics in utilizing the literature which is- 
sues from the press. Non-Catholics may occasionally stray into 
one of our bookstores ; curiosity may prompt them to open a book 
or two. But we cannot expect that many of them will voluntarily 
avail themselves of these means. Why should they do so ? or 
why should they go out of their way and spend money for what 
is distasteful to them } The fact is, we must be the active agents 
in bringing the truth to their notice. How ? Certainly not by 
any importunity which will be bothersome or discourteous. That 
will only disgust and repel. But there are opportunities and 
occasions when a word of explanation, followed up by the loan or 
gift of a tract or book suited in its tone and topic to the person 
with whom we are dealing, will do wonders. Sometimes hearts 
are tender and minds are open to the truth. Then they welcome 
the definite authoritative teaching of Holy Church. If, then, we 
are prepared, both by sympathy and by knowledge, what may we 
not do for Christ's Kingdom and the souls of our fellow-men } 
This requires zeal, but it also requires tact — if we may say it, 
Divine tact. 

The Catholic Book J^x:change 
has been established and is conducted on these principles. Here- 
with is a catalogue of its publications. A little money spent judi- 
ciously in this way is casting your bread on the running waters. 



CATHOLIC AND PROTESTANT COUN- 
TRIES COMPARED 

in Civilization, Popular Happiness, General Intelli- 
gence, and Morality. 

By Alfred Young, Paulist. 
636 pages, cloth, $1. 

A common argument against the Divinity of the Church is i 
see its demoralizing influence on the civihzation of Cathohc 
countries. Father Young covers the whole field of social ques. 
tions and completely answers all such charges The New York 
Sun says : - Considering the scope of Father Young's book and 
the extraordinary amount of research required by it we do not 
hesitate to pronounce it the strongest piece of controversial lit- 
erature upon the Catholic side that has been put forth m recent 



times. 



CATHOLI.C BELIEF. 

A Short and Simple Exposition of Catholic Doctrine. 
By Rev. J. Faa Di Bruno. 
433 pages, paper, 20 cents. ^ 

The best-known compendium of the teachings of the Churcn 
A book for the million. Bishops need it for, missionary work 
kmong non-Catholics. Priests need it in instructing Converts 
Plople need it as a handy manual of Christian Doctrme. Dis- 
count for large quantities. 

DIVINE ARMORY OF HOLY SCRIPTURE. 

By Rev. Kenelm Vaughan ; with a preface by 
Cardinal Gibbons. 

In leather, five books in one volume, 
1,028 pages, $2. 
It is the Holy Scriptures arranged for devotional as well as 
preaching purposes, for the intelligent laity as -ell as for priests 
It classifies the text of Scripture under appropriate headings, 
LSnf an admirably digested Concordance. We have nothing 
Uke ufn a CaSolic English dress. It will serve nicely as a hand- 
book in the revival of Scripture Studies, and is coming largely in- 
to vogue among intelligen^t lay people as a PRAYER-Book of un- 
usual value, since it enables one to pray m the words of the Holy 
Ghost. . 

The CatioUc Book Exchange, 120 West 60lh St., New York. 



LIFE OF FATHER HECKER, 

Founder of the Paulists, 

By Rev. Walter Elliott. Introduction by Most Rev. 

John Ireland, D.D. 

444 pages, cloth, $I. 

A full-sized literary portrait of a great leader of men. Father 
Hecker was the prophet of the new dispensation, which is so hap- 
pily advocated by Leo XIII., of bringing the Church into harmony 
with the legitimate aspirations of the age. The book expresses 
in his own words his hopes for the conversion of America. It is 
the life-story of one of the most prominent ecclesiastics in the 
American Church. 

THE OXFORD MOVEMENT IN 
AMERICA ; 

or. Glimpses of Life in an Anglican Seminary, 
By Rev. Clarence A. Walworth, 

Author of ''^ Gentle Skeptic ^^^ '•^ Andiatorocte^''^ etc, 

175 pages, cloth, $1. 

A most intensely interesting personal narrative of the rise of 
latter-day Episcopalianism. Father Walworth was a student at 
the General Theological Seminary when the Oxford Movement 
was in full swing. Many names well known to-day were in the 
list also. The part these actors took in the play is related by one 
who was on the stage, and knew them all thoroughly. In a 
simple yet kindly way he tells many tales out of school. 



FIVE MINUTE SERMONS. 

Volume I, New Series, 

By the Paulists. 

516 pages, cloth, $i each. 

This volume contains the Gospel and Epistle for each Sun- 
day of the year and three well-selected, practical, and pointed 
Sermonettes for the Low Masses. The advantage of this collec- 
tion is that the sermons are by practical preachers, have been 
actually preached, and after careful revision are now offered to the 
Clergy. This is an entirely new volume, the sermons have 
never been published before in book-form. It makes an excellent 
manual for use on the altar. 

Volumes I. and II., old series, can be supplied at $1 each. 

The Catholic Book Exchange, 120 West 60th St., New Tork. 



ASPIRATIONS OF NATURE. 

By Very Rev. I. T. Hecker. 
360 pages, paper, 20 cents. 

Father Hecker in his original way argues himself in this 
work, from a basis which supposes the religious instinct, into the 
Catholic Church, where this instinct receives its fullest develop- 
ment. It is a most valuable book to an intelligent man who has 
drifted away from all organized religion. 



ANDIATOROCTE ; 

ovt The Eve of Lady Day on Lake George ; and other 
Poems y Hymns y a?id Meditations in Verse, 

By Rev. Father Walworth, of Albany, N. Y. 

240 pages, cloth, gilt edges, $I. 

Father Walworth has written poetry of very high merit. 
This collection of his life poems includes his best creations. 
Many are racy of the soil, some bespeak the poetry of Indian 
legend, still others are born of a deep religious nature. 



CHURCH AND THE AGE. 

An Exposition of the Catholic Church in view of 
the Needs and Aspirations of the present Age, 

By Very Rev. I. T. Hecker. 
322 pages, cloth, $I. 

An epoch-making book. One cannot well understand the 
signs of the times and the outcome of the new dispensation with- 
out getting Father Hecker's views. It is a book to be read and 
re-read, talked over, and ti?en read again. The relations of in- 
telligence and liberty to the religious life of the Church are here 
fully discussed. 

HISTORY OF MY RELIGIOUS OPINION. 

Apologia fro Vita Sua. 
By John Henry Cardinal Newman. 

394 pages, cloth, $I. > 

This is the well-known masterpiece of polemical literature in 
which he answers in a crushing way the charges of Rev. Charles 
Kingsley. He gives in it an autobiography of his religious life. 

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PLAIN FACTS FOR FAIR MINDS. 

An Appeal to Candor and Common Sense, 
By Rev. George M. Searle, Paulist 

Professor of Mathematics and Astronomy at Cathotic University 
of America^ Washington^ D. C. 

360 pages, cloth, 50 cents. 

Father Searle is a convertr who knows the American mind 
well, and in this hand-book presents the truth in so taking a way 
that non-Catholics are charmed with its simple directness. It has 
also a double advantage of being prepared as an answer to the 
numerous queries coming through the "Question Box" on Father 
Elliott's Missions for Non-Catholics. * There is no better book to 
^ive away in quantities or to use for the instruction of converts. 



A BRIEF HISTORY OF RELIGION 

from the Creation of the World to the present time ; 
to which is added an Historical Sketch of the 
Catholic^ Church in the United States. 

46 pages, paper, 10 cents. 

The study of history is the beaten track leadingf from reli- 
gious error to Catholic truth. The first part of this little work 
shows the unity and consistency of God's dealings with men. The 
second part, from the pen of Father Hecker, is an invincible argu- 
ment for Catholic truth drawn from its relation to our popular 
institutions. It is valuable as a text-book in Sunday-schools. 



THE INQUIRER'S CATECHISM. 

Leady Kindly Light, Adapted from the Catechism 

of Rev. F. X\ Reichart ; published with the 

^ approval of the Bishop of Salford, England, 

48 pages, paper, 5 cents. 

A short, handy, concise, and cheap manual to give to those 
who are inquiring about the Church. A supply at hand in the 
church office or confessional will satisfy the demand, and may lead 
many who come timidly to ask, into the right way. 

Tbe CathoUo Book Exchange, 120 West 60th St., New York. 



THE TEACHING OF ST. JOHN THE 

APOSTLE to the Churches of Asia and the World. 
165 pp., 36 full-page illustrations, cloth, $1. 
By Angnstine Francis Hewit, D.D., 

of the Congregation of St, Paul, 

This is a new translation of the writings of St. John the 
Apostle by one of the ablest scholars of the day in America, and 
it offers a specimen of an improved English version of the sacred 
canonical Scriptures. The Catholic Hierarchy of this day clasps 
the hand of St. John, on whose head rested the hand of the Lord 
Jesus Christ. From this fact, for the present needs of religious 
truth, the writings of St. John acquire much of their importance. 
Hence this new translation of them. 



LIFE OF FATHER HECKER. 

By Dr. William Barry. 
75 P^g^Sj paper, 10 cents. 

It is a good summary of the larger life of Father Hecker by 
Father Elliott. It originally appeared as a critique in the Dublin 
Review. It is a European's estimate of an American and his in- 
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QUESTIONS OF THE SOUL. 

By Very Rev. I. T. Hecker, Paulist. 
294 pages, paper, 20 cents. 

Much that this book contains is a narrative of Father Keeker's 
attempt to solve the problems of life outside the Church and his 
failure to do so, together with an enthusiastic and most attractive 
description of how the Catholic Church revealed God to his thirst- 
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with God. For those who have no positive religion this book is 
very valuable. 

MARY, THE MOTHER OF JESUS. 

By John Henry Cardinal Newman. 

136 pages, paper, 20 cents. 

This is by all odds the best statement of Catholic doctrine on 
the devotion to the Blessed Virgin in the English language. It 
was Newman's celebrated answer to Pusey. It is thorough, com- 
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The Catholic Book Exchange, 120 West 60th St., New York. 



SERMONS BY THE PAULISTS. 

Preached during j 86^-66, $i, 

OTHER VOLUMES IN PRESS, 

None of these parish sermons is a long one, but they are all 
practical and have been preached to people of every-day life. 
Their charm is their directness. Many priests have found them 
extremely useful in their own pastoral labors. 



PROBLEMS OF THE AGE; 

with Studies in St. Augustine on Kindred Topics. 

By Very Rev. Augustine F. Hewit, D.D. 

440 pages, cloth, 75 cents. 

This IS the best statement in English of some of the funda» 
mental questions that lie on the borderland between natural and 
revealed religions, of original sin and the problem of evil, etc. For 
one who thinks for himself we know of nothing better in English. 

PROBI.BMS OF THB Age in paper, 287 pages, 
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Studies in St. Augustine in paper, 155 pa- 
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THE KING^S HIGHWAY ; 

or. The Catholic Church the Way of Salvation as 
revealed in the Holy Scriptures, 

By Very Rev. A. F. Hewit, D.D. 
292 pages, cloth, 50 cents ; paper, 25 cents. 

It is the Catholic Church proved to be divine from the 
Scriptural argument. First-rate in dealing with old-fashioned 
Protestants. 



LIFE OF REV. FRANCIS A. BAKER. 

By Very Rev. A. F. Hewit, D.D. 
205 pages, cloth, 75 cents. 

Beautiful character sketch of one of the first Paulist Fathers, 
and a charming biography of a convert and a missionary. It 
contains a full history of the early beginnings of the Paulists. 

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THE POPE: HOW FAR DOES HE 
CONTROL CONSCIENCE? 

How far does he interfere with Citizenship f 

By John Henry Cardinal Newman. 

200 pages, paper, 20 cents. 

This book fully instructs one about the relations of Catho- 
licity to civil government, how far loyalty to the Pope can make 
one disloyal to the State. In fact all obligations arising from 
one's duty as a man, as a citizen, as a Catholic. The chapter on 
Conscience is alone worth a dozen ordinary books, so luminous 
is the statement of the inner liberty of Catholics. The book is es- 
pecially adapted to lawyers, editors, teachers, ministers, and poli- 
ticians. It will place Catholics right on the burning question of 
love of country. 

FROM THE HIGHWAYS OF LIFE. 

A series of brief but complete Narratives of Convert 
sions to the true Faith, written in each case by 
the Convert, 

' 128 pages, cloth, 25 cents ; paper, lo cents. 

These are object-lessons of how the grace of God leads men 
and women to Catholicity. They are stories of honest inmiiry, 
courageous struggle, and great sacrifice, taken from life. The 
charm of personal narrative makes these sketches stranger than 
fiction and far more interesting. 



GUIDE FOR CATHOLIC YOUNG WOMEN, 

especially for those who earn their own living. 

By Rev. George Deshon, Paulist. 
35tli edition. 308 pages, cloth, 75 cents. 

The peculiar charm of this book is its simple and straightfor- 
ward earnestness. A working-girl's whole life is gone over, and 
the guidance given is of a most practical kind and in a most sym- 
pathetic spirit. It is the work of one thoroughly familiar with 
the spiritual and temporal needs of the young working-women of 
America. Full of common sense and deeply religious. The best 
recommendation the book can get is the demand every year for 
two or three new editions. It is particularly useful for distribu- 
tion in Sodalities. ^(^. 

The Catholic Beok Exchange, 120 West 60th St., New York. 



PATRIOTISM : ITS DUTY AND VALUE. 
By Most Rev. John Ireland, D.D. 
i6 pages, paper, 5 cents ; $3 per hundred. 

This is a splendid statement in Archbishop Ireland's masterly 
style of the attitude of the American citizen to his country. It 
was originally delivered as an address before the Loyal Legion. 
It is very good for distribution in quantities to cultivate civic 
virtue. 

WHY I AM A CATHOLIC. 

By Rev. Walter EUiott. 

8 pages, $1 per hundred. 



THE NEW KNOW-NOTHINGISM. 

A Reply to A,P,A. Calumnies. 

By Rev. R. M. Ryan. 
129 pages, paper, 20 cents. 

A calm, well-reasoned, and exhaustive reply to the various 
outrageous charges made against the Church by the A. P. As. 



MISSIONARY OUTLOOK IN THE UNITED 

STATES. 
By Rev. Walter ElUott. 

16 pages, $1 per hundred. 



MANUAL OF TOTAL ABSTINENCE. 

Prepared by the Catholic Total Abstinence Union of 

America, 

24 pages, paper, $2 per hundred. 

A catechism giving an accurate statement of the fundamental 
principles that underlie the Catholic Total Abstinence Movement. 
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WHAT ARE WE DOING FOR NON-CATHOLICS? 
By Rev. Arthur M. Clark. 

12 pages, paper, $I per hundred. 

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FATHER YOUNG'S 
CHURCH MUSIC PUBLICATIONS. 

The Catholic Hymnal, 8vo, boards, 50 cents per copy. In 
lots of 50 and more, 30 cents per copy. Contains 238 
hymns, words and music, appropriate to the festivals and sea- 
sons of the liturgical year, and for special devotions. 

An Order of Divine Praise and Prayer, 57 pages 24mo, 
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for a congregational service. $3 per hundred. Specimen cop- 
ies furnished ONLY on receipt of 10 cents. 

Carols for a Merry Christmas. 38 carols, words and music. 
Stiff cover, broad 24rao. 25 cents each. 

Carols for a Joyous :^ aster, 28 characteristic Easter Carols, 
words and music. Stiff cover, broad 24mo. 25 cents. 

Carols for the Month of May, 6 carols, words and music, 
in praise of Our Lady. Stiff cover, broad 24x00. 10 cents each. 

Congregational Singing, How to establish it : What to do, 
and what not to do. A brief practical treatise. Paper, 3 pages, 
8vo. On receipt of jo cents a copy of this treatise and a 
specimen copy of the Divine Praise and Prayer will be 
sent. 



MASS-BOOK FOR NON-CATHOLICS. 

Compiled by a Convert. 

75 P^g^s, paper, 10 cents. 

Often non-Catholics come into the Church at funerals, great 
festivals, or to hear a sermon. The Mass is an enigma to them. 
This little book is a guide to the Mass. T h^ idea is to have a 
supply of these little books at the door and have the usher place 
one in the hands of each non-Catholic. 



MISSION HYMNS WITH MUSIC. 

32 pages, paper, 5 cents; $3 per hundred. 

These hymns are arranged for use of the people in congrega- 
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easily learned, and are good to use during the time of a mission. 



MISSION HYMNS WITHOUT MUSIC. 

The same as above. $l per hundred. 
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THE PLEA OF SINCERITY. Truth in itself the object of 
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WHAT MY UNCLE SAID ABOUT THE POPE. Who 
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THE LOVE OF JESUS CHRIST. We love Him because 
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THE POPE'S TEMPORAL POWER. What it means. 
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100 ; $2.50 per 1,000. 

IS IT TRUE ? The Bible myths of Protestants. The story 
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BE SURE YOU ARE RIGHT AND THEN GO AHEAD. 
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PROGRESS IN RELIGION. The teaching Church decides 
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HOW TO GET MARRIED. Do not marry a Protestant ; 
marry a Catholic with Banns, Confession, Mass, and Holy Com- 
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'" HOW TO DIE. Pi:epare : (i) By a good life. ^2) By re- 
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SALLY BRANCH. The old Church : a narrative of a con- 
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SOMETHING ABOUT INDULGENCES. How to gain 
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HOW TO FIND THE TRUE RELIGION. The Church, 
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SAINT WORSHIP. '' The one mediator." 4 pp. 25 cts. 
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BAPTISM. Its necessity. Effect. The minister. The cere- 
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HOW TO MAKE A GOOD CONFESSION. An excellent 
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DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART OF JESUS. Its 
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NO SECT IN HEAVEN. If there are no sects in Heaven^ 
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DEVOTION TO THE ANGELS. 4 pp. 25 cts. per 100; 
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TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE. What some Protestants say 
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PURGATORY AND PRAYERS FOR THE DEAD. 8 pp. 
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WHAT DO CATHOLICS BELIEVE ? Brief Exposition 
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WHAT CATHOLICS DO NOT BELIEVE. 4 pp. 25 cts. 
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WHY I AM A CATHOLIC. 8 pp. $5 per 1,000. 

SHALL OUR CHILDREN BE CHRISTIANS ? On edu- 
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THE USE OF THE BIBLE AMONG THE LAITY. 8 pp. 
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Publications of Temperance Truth Bureau. 

These pamphlets discuss every aspect of the Temperance 
Question, and are written by some of the best-known publicists of 
the day. They are useful for distribution in the Church or at 
Rallies. 

8-page pamphlets at $3 per thousand. 
16 '' '' '' $5 '' '' 

EIGHT-PAGE PAMPHLETS. 
X. Why I am a Total Abstainer. J^ev. Walter Elliott. 

2. The Spirit of Father Mathew. Archbishop Ireland, 

3. Let us Save Our Country. Rev. J. M. Scanlan, 

4. Join the C. T. A. Movement. /. W. Logue. 

5. The Saloon is against the Church. Rev. A. P. Doyle, 

6. The Church is against the Saloon. 

Rt. Rev. /. /. Keane^ D.D, 

7. The Supreme Court and the Saloon. 

8. The Drinking Habit. A. W. Gutridge, 

9. Alcohol is a Health-Destroyer. 

ID. The Treating Practice. Rev. /. S. Tiernan. 

11. A Fashion of the Times. Helen R. Grey. 

12. In the Midst of the Battle. Rev. A. P. Doyle. 

13. The Disease and the Remedy. Archbishop Ireland. 

14. Alter the Facts. Helen R. Grey. 

15. Save Your Strength. Prof. C. H. Steele. 

16. What Women Can Do. Martha F. Hyde. 

17. Convention Address of '93. Rev. J. J. McCoy, 

18. A New Remedy for an Old Evil. Rev. Wm. I. Simmons, 

19. A Woman's Point of View. Lily A. Toomy, 

20. Important Temperance Documents. 

21. The Tippling Habit. J. W. Burgess, 

22. Catholics and the Drink Habit. Rev, James M. Cleary, 

23. The Ounce of Prevention. 

24. Convention Address of '94. Rt, Rev. /. B, Cotter, 



SIXTEEN-PAGE PAMPHLETS. 

The Duty of Catholics in Temperance Worit 

Archbishop Ireland-, 

Ethics of Catholic Total Abstinence. 

Rev, Thomas Conaty^ D.D, 
Mgr. Satolli and the Saloon. Archbishop Ireland, 

Immoral Use and Sale of Intoxicants. 

Very Rev. A. F. Hewit, D.D, 

A Perplexing Social Evil. Rev. James M, Cleary, 

Temperance Hymns. Arranged to Popular Airs. 

The Catliolic Book Eicchange, 120 West 60th St., New York. 



THE BIBLE FOR THE PEOPLE. 

Arranged for purposes of devotion. 1028 pages, soft leather, red edges, S2» 
JS^ 2,000 COPIES SOLD IN A YEAR, 

"^^^^^^ Xt;^-* gU-6o <U) -vvvvvc^ _ .'Er . '6-v-T^vva ^^UJ" " r>vco oLcv>- 



'^^ <n^T^ %2^ Ga^^^. tU.^"A^^- 




Moral. — Go tlzou and do likewise. 
odild $2 to 120 West 60tli St., New York, and it will be mailed to you. 



V ^ 



OCT 25 1901 



I 



